The sun is beginning to rise outside and I'm thinking of you.

You don’t have to step on me,
I’m the peach that you spent time
admiring.
The one you plucked from the branch
and held onto lovingly
until you saw I began to rot.
Everything has flaws.
But not you; so instead of taking great care
you tossed me on
the ground and stomped away.

I hate this sick to my stomach
feeling that I carry with me everywhere now.
I was just saying,
what scares me most is not knowing where to go if I lose this job.
I've been really regretting
failing out of school,
because my future is completely
unpredictable.
I know it's not official,
but I feel it's inevitable.
I have never worked so hard,
wanted so hard,
to keep a job.
And to think that all of this was for nothing,
is almost too depressing to breathe.
Why is it never me?
Why do I fail at everything I attempt?
When will it be me?

I felt a warm breeze on my back, maybe a perfect 75 degrees. The sky was a little cloudy but I could still see the stars. I was sitting on a broken bench smoking a cigarette, watching the fireworks that someone was setting off a block away. Fireflies danced just above the grass and it was quiet, only the faint sound of light traffic in town. And I was alone. But I was happy to be. Normally I wouldn’t sit outside in the dark by myself because I don’t want to become a true crime story but it was so nice out. Then the fireworks stopped and I finished the cigarette so I slowly made my way back to the door of my apartment building and went inside.

I’ll barely eat,
and cry in my car before work.
Meanwhile I’ll trick everyone into
thinking I’m no longer
sifting through the wreckage
of us.

My dad came over yesterday to fix my garbage disposal.
I think he could tell by the lack of smiling and my tone of voice that I was upset.
So he asked, "how have you been? How are things with that guy you were hanging out with?"
I replied, "there's nothing left to say about that, but I'm pretty bummed out."
He told me he's sorry and if I want to talk that he's around.
I just said thanks and hugged him.
I don't want to talk about it anymore. I have talked about it so much that even I'm sick of it.
I hate that I even mentioned him to my parents, I waited 6 months before I ever did and that was a mistake but I used to think he was worth bringing up.
Oh how wrong I was.

The window sat propped open
just a bit.
A few rain drops would drip in
and pop as old songs she didn’t know played
out of the speakers on her desk.
A candle and a lamp gave the room a pink hue.
Just her legs were under the sheets as she sat
reading in bed wearing thin cotton shorts
and a big t shirt she got from her dad.
It was her day off.
A pretty perfect one at that.

I thought I was gonna make
it through just one day without crying.
But the tears managed to squeeze out
of the corner of my eyes as I tried to
fall asleep.
Sliding down my cheek and soaking
into my pillow,
leaving a black smudge from leftover
mascara.
I still love him.
I’m afraid I always will.

He said he couldn’t wait to
get home to me.

There are many reasons why I love him,
but the reason I couldn’t stop thinking about him for a week after we met was because he could really make me laugh.

I realized it the first time when we were sitting at a Waffle House at 2 in the morning and we were talking like two old friends and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
I knew I wanted to keep feeling like that.

Lucky for me, he did too.

I think I might do it tomorrow.
Not tonight because it's too late and I want to get some sleep.
I might tell him I developed a crush on someone else and that it's left me confused, and I don't know what I want.
But I want to be alone this week.
I want him to go stay somewhere else so I can have the house to myself to figure it out, figure myself out a bit.
But I'm scared.
Of how it will make him feel, and of how he might react.
But I have not cheated. I haven't.
I just feel something for someone else that I should only feel for him.
And I can't go on pretending anymore.
It makes me sick to my stomach and depressed and so utterly confused.
Maybe I'll chicken out by the time I wake up, but I hope not.
I don't want this to go on any longer.
I can't take it anymore, I want to be honest, I want to put myself first.

I’m just laying in my bed,
waiting to go see my
boyfriend.

I don’t want to talk
Not today.
Sometimes I don’t like
having a cellphone.
I don’t want to able
to be reached at any point.
Just let me be

Last night I watched a video about a girl who dealt with the same thing I do.
Trichotillomania (hair pulling)
But she was able to beat it.
Everything she said was 100% true, and it felt like someone gets it.
It’s something that no one cares about other than you.
People claim to not notice it, or pretend that they don’t.
They laugh when you tell them, because they think it’s a joke, that it can’t be real.
Significant others get sick of telling you to stop, and picking your hair off all of their clothes.
It’s embarrassing, shameful, and frustrating.
And I’ve done it for 8 years.
But this time, for real, I am going to beat it.
I only pulled out one hair all day, so far so good.
Just now I almost put my fingers in my hair but I didn’t.
I’m hoping with time it’ll get easier.

I’ll go home
and build a fire,
put on the podcast
that feels like having friends
and go to sleep.

It’s a little weird
that sometimes,
well most times;
I find it hard to go out and do
stuff with people
because I know it will
leave me feeling
lonely.
There is that rush
of feeling connected
and cared for.
Music and laughing.
Only for it to fall
away fast
when you come home and
no one is there.
No one to hug when you
walk in the door.
No one to tell your day to.
It’s like, shutting off a light.
Turning off the radio
and being in silence.
That part has never gotten easier.
As an introvert
I need the quiet to recharge,
but as a human I need
someone there just to be
there.

Pink and red
and a mix of the two;
long stemmed
and cut
set neatly in the vase.
I already picked
two of the petals
that had fallen
and placed them in between
the pages of a book
to keep.
I got flowers for Valentines Day
for the first time
as an adult
and it feels really good.

I looked at his phone.
I know that’s wrong and an invasion
of privacy.
And you never find anything good
when you look at his phone.
He googled
“How to break up with someone who loves you.”
I already knew he was thinking it
before I looked.
I asked him if that’s what he wanted,
leaving out the part about how I really knew.
Just said, “I had a feeling.”
He never answered the question,
he just listed everything he hates about me.
How I need to change and for some reason
I agreed.
I don’t know why I can’t let him go,
because I know that the guy I’m supposed to be with someday, is out there. Somewhere.
He said I need to be okay with being alone because he will never marry me,
and he’s right.
I don’t want to be alone so I guess I take this **** instead of not speaking to anyone for days and going on bad dates.
But I think I’m getting closer to…
something.

You were born one year and seven days before me.
And it took me 23 to find you.
All together I may have gotten 3 beside you.
It wasn’t enough,
but it also felt like a lifetime.
I felt destined to be with you,
like we were created in the stars.
How can a connection that felt cosmic
just be handled so poorly.
It’s like we got caught in a painting that
never got finished,
half of the canvas left empty.

When I think about you
it feels like a desperate plea.
My brain is screaming for you,
my heart is begging.
I miss you so bad.
This is the most pain I’ve ever felt,
a sense of abandonment that I don’t
think will ever be resolved.

I guess I knew I’d be lucky to
see forever with you.
That the odds were not in my favor.
All I’ve ever wanted was to be enough
to keep you happy
even if sometimes it meant sacrificing my own.
I’d still walk 1,000 miles for you.
But now I’m sitting in my car
with a biscuit in my lap
and Noah strumming through
my radio.
Last night I had a dream you were there,
And you said you missed me.
I still need to know if you miss me.

(And anyone else who might need it)
Please be happy.
Please try as hard as you can to focus on the good and stop believing that mean girl in your head who lies to you.
You have come so far and done so well creating a new life and making yourself happy.
Your happiness shouldn't come from someone else.
Stop putting yourself down because of your job and because you're single with no kids at 23.
You're doing just fine.
The quick passing of time doesn't mean anything.
Life is long.
Please try to be nice and give yourself a break.

Somehow it’s so easy to lose track
of myself.
Don’t seem to notice until it’s too late
that it’s been awhile since I’ve been okay.
So I’ll search for new music,
go thrifting
and start a skin care routine.
Read a book and spend some time alone
and slowly I’ll start to feel like myself again.

I feel like if I were anyone other than me,
he would like me enough that we would be a couple by now.

No matter what
That boy
from Minnesota says
about me,
I showed him the song
Waves ft Kacey Musgraves.

I can try to convince myself that I'm just angry but really I just miss you.

I finally have him,
the job,
first shift, and
college.
But it’s still not enough to
keep me smiling.
My brain is already trying to ruin it.
Getting upset over stupid things
like money, and time together.
Comments about other girls and
jokes about me.
Already stressing and moving too fast
in my classes and work.
I just need to slow down.

If you were a ladybug and I was a ladybug
we could hangout on a strawberry together.
❤️

My mom pulled up in her green car
and brought me to my childhood bedroom. Exhaustion and disappointment
on her face as she
followed me up the stairs.
I barely slept but woke up to realize
what a huge mistake I made.
And then he came back and I still don’t know why.
I decided not to ask.
But a part of me wishes he hadn’t.
It’s too hard to look at him, too hard to smile, too hard to even continue building together when there’s too much rubble.
Everything is scorched and broken it’s impossible to know where to start.
I lost myself completely, the girl he loves died.
I feel like I’m in a body that isn’t mine.
Everyone chatting and being kind to me although I don’t deserve it.
I keep day dreaming of disappearing,
leaving in the night and driving until my car can’t go any farther.
I don’t want to show my face, it’s an embarrassment and a shame.
Everyone saying you can’t drink
or you’ll go off the handle again
being watched like a hawk.
I can’t take it.