The sun is beginning to rise outside and I'm thinking of you.
I took him to our little spot that over looks interstate 70, the spot that almost seems like a secret.
I thought he'd be impressed, maybe say,
this is cool.
Instead he asked,
did you ever take anyone else here?
I stumbled and said. No.
I'm pretty sure I didn't even stop. I just turned right around.
It felt empty and sad without you anyway.
I've never been back since.
But I always look down that road when I drive by, like I'm hoping to see you somehow.
I had a very boring weekend.
He never got ahold of me today to hangout, so I guess he wasn't serious.
I woke up around 11 a.m and sat at the dining room table watching YouTube videos for awhile, trying to decide what to do.
I went to to check the mail and luckily my Ipsy bag came.
I put on the blush that was in the bag and it really finished off my makeup.
I put on a black dress and boots and decided to go to Goodwill just to look around since boredom was really sinking in.
I ended up finding a light mint green GAP skirt that buttons up the front and a yellow summery shirt with some designs on it.
When I got home I went to lay out in my back yard to try and get some sun,
but that didn't last long because some stupid mosquitos started biting me.
I made chili for dinner, it was very good.
Then I watched some more YouTube videos and ended up falling asleep for awhile.
I can remember being about seven or eight years old, and listening to the song 1985 on the radio, as I sat in the back seat of my dad's old Cadillac.
I was all bundled up, kind-of cold, waiting for the car to warm up after being inside the bowling alley for my brother's practice.
I have always been a good listener, so the lyric about wishing it still was 1985, made me think of my mom.
I wondered if she wished she could go back in time.
I didn't fully understand of course; except that I spent my childhood wishing I was somewhere else.
But now as an adult, I can almost guarantee that my mom felt like that and probably still does.
There will always be a period in time when we were the happiest, the best of ourselves.
Nostalgia is painful, and dreadful and impossible to forget about.
I guess I wish it was still 2013.
I think I get addicted to things easily.
So it's very good I've never done any drugs.
My addiction is people.
When I find someone who makes me feel a certain way that I can't really describe except for manicly high highs and depressingly low lows,
I can get obsessed with that feeling.
I don't know how to stop except to go cold turkey.
I can hate them so much when I'm alone and then as soon as I see their name pop up in a text or talk to them out in public I am hooked again.
It's a cold November morning and outside my window looks similar to a Bob Ross painting.
Blues, purple, brown and red.
Thin tree branches and leaves
It's quite frightening how quickly
courage slips away.
One day you turn a corner and realize
that it isn't with you anymore.
How easy it is to forget how to
just breathe and brush off your worries.
When you wake up covered in responsibility, and priorities
instead of confetti and new clothes.
Parents always say you grew up before their eyes,
but haven't we grown up behind our's?
Why did I love u so much
I’ve asked myself this before
It’s difficult to explain but I know how I felt
being next to you.
It was the safety in knowing that nothing bad would happen as long as you were there.
It’s something out of my control so much that the only thing it could be is love.
Through all the darkness I saw the brightest light,
It must have been a glimpse of heaven.
There are so many times when
I wish I could capture a moment and
keep it inside a snow globe.
That way all I’d have to do is tip it over to
relive it all over again.
I found a joint in my car and
I drove around and smoked
it at 3 in the morning while
on lunch break at work.
I never said I make good decisions.
He's my person even if I'm not his.
I think I just feel **** so hard,
and that's where the poetry comes from.
Whether it be any good or not.
I still mourn every break up,
I still miss every person I don't know anymore.
I still long for every amazing moment that I let slip by.
I just feel all of it at the same time,
all the time.
I've been turning the heat on in the car on smoke breaks.
69 degrees now feels cold.
I always get so exhausted after my brain spirals and washes down stream.
It's like it catches on fire or spins really fast,
and then when it cools off I can barely keep my eyes open.
I almost texted Dan and told him some stupid **** like I loved him and hated myself.
And I almost texted Sam and told him I understand why he tried to **** himself.
But luckily, thank god or whatever it is, I didn't.
But now my break is over and I have one hour left until I can go home and smoke a bowl and dream of being someone else.
Dan is the sweet guy I write about. Sam is a friend who tried to take his own life twice. He's doing a lot better now thankfully.
While laying in bed I can hear the windchimes, that are hanging outside my neighbor's apartment singing loudly and consistently.
The wind is blowing hard outside.
Even though it's Halloween it's warm and the air smells fresh as it comes in my window.
Perfect to fall asleep to.
And that's it.
I did it and didn't even mean to.
I left and went to my brother's.
I needed one of my siblings.
We went back to my house later and he was gone.
I left and went on a drive.
I ended up at Hueston Woods and sat by the dam.
I listened to the water and felt the breeze and just stared.
It doesn't feel real. Not yet.
Even though now I'm home and it's still quiet.
I'm getting drunk and smoking **** and letting my dog run all over the house that my brother and his boyfriend just so kindly cleaned.
I haven't eaten all day and I called off work.
I'm not ready to sit in this so I'm playing music very loud as I write this.
Funny enough Dan hasn't texted me back all day.
****. Maybe all guys are the same lol
Whatever. I want to be alone anyway.
I don't hate my life,
but sometimes it feels pretty
worthless to say the least.
I'm 20, a pretty useless age.
Stuck between a teenager and
being able to drink.
I work about 45 hours a week,
pay my bills,
eat a lot of junk,
barely get enough sleep
I see my boyfriend for less than 24 hours
and I'm lucky to see anyone else.
Adults always tell me to enjoy this
time alone, because one day I'll
barely be able to find a minute.
But I don't think they meant this much.
Everyone needs a little conpany,
otherwise the walls start to speak.
You know how it is when it's just you and another person.
What is wrong with me that I still love you?
I still love you more than a singer needs to sing.
More than a painter needs paint,
more than flowers need the rain,
more than Bonnie loved Clyde,
more than the sun needs the moon.
If you called me up and said, “come back”
I would drop everything.
I love you even though you are why I hate myself.
I’m always questioning myself and
Because I will not let someone take me deep into the woods, and leave me lost somewhere.
I will not struggle to find my way again.
There is nothing sexier than honest words.
That's what you've always given to me.
Boy, you're so easy to fall in love with.
On my worst days when I feel so alone,
I remember that time you were leaving for the summer and I couldn't let you go.
I hugged you so tight, and couldn't stop kissing your lips.
I needed you so bad back then.
I truly don't know what would have happened to me without you being there to monitor my drinking, make me laugh, call me out on my ******* yet giving me the affection I needed and never forcing it onto me.
****. I miss you.
Do you remember when I would call you the human dictionary?
You always knew the answer; the right thing to say.
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
Sliding down my cheek and soaking
into my pillow,
leaving a black smudge from leftover
I still love him.
I’m afraid I always will.
The anger I feel towards him
makes me so hot I can't lay underneath
Of course I'm alone,
and he hasn't even noticed I drifted off
to bed because I can't stand to
sit there and watch him kick his
shoe around on my carpet any longer.
If you don't want to be here, then don't.
If you don't want to be with me,
I don't deserve to be treated like this.
I spent my afternoon drinking
a tall Blue Moon with an orange slice
and reading a book about ****** at
a LaRosas pizza.
I only came in because there was a
neon Budlight sign in the window
and I had time to ****.
I have never dined alone before
out of fear it would be depressing
but this was the opposite.
The restaurant was fairly empty,
I had the bar to myself to just read and
eat mozzarella sticks.
It was a nice reminder that I like
hanging out with myself.
I so look forward to all the quiet moments.
Coming home from work and slipping into bed, putting my arm around him.
We just lay there without saying a word until the alarm clock tells him it’s time to get up.
In the car when there’s no talking, just music and the sound of the road and he puts his hand on my leg and lets it rest there until we get to where we’re going.
In the busy restaurant where people are squeezing and pushing past me and he put his arm around me, pulling me close, keeping his hand on my back.
It’s in all the unspoken moments, and gestures the glances and smiles and everything else.
I know I am his.
Stumbling upon something unexpected
and beautiful when you’re out in nature
I think brings to light what really matters.
It makes you feel small, compared to the giants that have been built with time.
It was there before you, and it’ll be there after you.
So whatever is going on inside your head that feels enormous, suddenly shrinks.
It doesn’t go away, but it’s not as painful..
There she is.
My old pal sadness, it's been awhile since her last visit.
She must have gone to see the ocean or the Grand Canyon, but, she always comes back. She never really leaves my side because nothing gold can stay.
I wrote this almost a year ago and posted it but it’s relevant to how I’ve been feeling lately.
(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.
that I just now realized that
you are not any more than
Not any more than me.
I am just as magical,
if not more; because
my dreams are bigger,
It’s all worth it
even if lately it hasn’t been easy;
when he reaches for my hand and says,
“Thank you for helping me peach.”
Although he doesn’t need to thank me.
I would do anything for him.
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 walked around my apartment aimlessly moving from my bed to the couch and then back to bed.
I was feeling about as exciting as the grey sky outside.
I did my ab workout alone, huffing and puffing on the floor.
I made eggs and toast and a protein shake after doing the dishes.
I listened to a podcast and smoked some ****.
Then after taking a nap I finally fixed my hair, put on some makeup and a cute outfit.
When he got home he sat on the couch and told me about his day and then leaned over and almost laid on top of me in a hug.
I then let out my girly exclamation as I tightly wrapped my arms around him,
“I’m so happy to see you! I was so bored without you!”
He laughed and said, “I know.”
I wish you'd stop saying,
"I'll be here."
I don't believe you anymore.
“I wish I could put you in my pocket.”
And I wish I could fit.
Sometimes I don't know if it's because I'm from the mid-west where everyone gets married and has babies before 21,
or if it's because I've always been a hopeless romantic;
but I want true out of this world love.
I want someone to want to marry me.
I'm neutral on kids right now though.
I need someone that falls in love with me every day, over and over.
Marriage to me, means finally finding that person that completes you.
Like, finding the missing piece that was taken when you were born, and placed into this other person.
You're soul mate.
I take it very seriously. And that's why I don't think I'll ever even be asked.
He only likes me when I’m sleeping.
When I’m asleep I don’t feel anything
and I don’t say anything or do anything.
I can’t talk about how I’m sad so I don’t make
I don’t ask for his hand when he’s
talking to a friend,
or look at him when he drinks a beer.
I’m not there.
So, he misses me.
But when I’m awake he doesn’t like me.
Last night I lay in bed unable
to meet sleep because he wasn’t just a room away.
So I tried to imagine what freedom feels like.
Freedom from longing, anxiety, fear and sadness.
I had an image of riding in the passenger seat
of my sister’s old beat up car
in the middle of spring in the morning as the sun is starting to rise.
The air is warm and sweet,
the wind feels like a nice boy running his fingers through your hair.
School is almost out, you’re about to start a fun day of who knows what with your hooligan friends.
An old song plays on the radio,
a Marlboro red between your fingers,
and a Monster energy drink in the cup holder.
No job, no homework, no heartbreak.
It’s a feeling I’ll probably never have again, that true freedom from it all.
When everything really is good.
I saw myself in beautiful binding.
A hard, solid cover with medieval art
of a girl with blonde hair.
A long sad story lay within the wrinkled pages.
The story of a girl who could never
It's a humid Ohio night.
Heat lightening flickers in the distance and I blow the smoke from my cigarette towards it.
Summer time sadness is too real.
August always breaks my heart.
I wished for you in the mountains.
In the fog that settled on top of the trees
and the sun that peaked through the rocks.
I wished for you when I watched the sunset
our last night in Virginia.
A broken porcelain doll,
a lost diamond off a ring,
I wished for a blue eyed boy who would
remind me of the mountains
whenever he looked at me.
I have big blue eyes that
can capture attention.
When I’m wearing a mask they’re really all
anyone can see
and for some reason they make a statement.
They’re kind and make people feel safe
talking to me.
They’re my best feature.
My blessing I guess.
I know by just a glance if a man is
going to find a way to talk me.
Each one I’ve laid next to at night
has told me they can’t stop looking.
My eyes say so much that most of the time
I don’t have to say anything at all.
No matter how hard I try to fight it;
and tell myself I deserve the guy that opens my car door, and is adored by my parents.
I can't stop this feeling.
And in the words of Lady Gaga,
I'm still in love with Judas baby.
I love *****, sad/angry, and different.
Bruises, and tattoos, drinking and smoking.
The guy that will pick me up on his dirtbike, but doesn't bother coming to knock on the door.
And then in the privacy of no eyes watching,
kisses me hard.
I love the fight,
I love a bad boy.
I watched the bubbles in my Miller lite
rise to the top, and listened to the conversations around me.
Country music blaring from the speakers.
I miss your bar stool being next to mine.
I miss my drinking buddy, my best friend.
I came here this afternoon because I realized I can’t find anyone who’s even close to you,
so I’ll go do the things we used to to do together, alone.
Being alone is better than feeling alone with people.
Sometimes I look at my hair and think,
oh it could be worse. I'm doing better.
And then sometimes I look in the mirror and feel that same horror as the first time I ever noticed what I was doing.
Nothing helps and nobody cares.
And I'm just stuck living with this every day, & it's really ******* hard.
I'm never going to beat trichotillomania.
Some day soon probably,
I'm gonna have to shave off all of this hair that I do have,
that took so long to grow.
Why can't I just stop.
I have always looked to other
writers for inspiration.
In fact, that's how I learned to
tell a story.
I remember the first author
I became obsessed with was
Laura Ingalls Wilder.
I was 6, and my teacher told me there
was no way I could read her books
because they were too long,
and the words were too advanced
for my age.
She, was wrong.
Then it was a few names I can't remember
but mostly Bukowski.
After reading him,
I knew I found my style.
And the words wouldn't stop flowing
for over a year.
I documented almost every day and every feeling,
but then I deleted it.
I've had three different accounts
because I never felt good enough.
Being a writer means also being
your worst critic.
My energy likes being around yours.
Two souls bouncing around the atmosphere, who somehow found the other and it felt warm and safe.
And now I can’t remember what it was like before we met.
Everybody over the age of
Twenty nine says your twenties
are meant for trying and failing
and learning and growing.
But so far my twenties have been about
trying to get enough sleep,
Binge eating after smoking way too
I am learning.
I watch movies every night,
sleep in too late.
Spend too much money on
stuff that can't be accounted for later.
But I'm kinda happy with
these sleepy, lazy, delicious routines
Amazing writing material
for a sloppy poet.
I didn't feel single until now even though the break up was 5 months ago.
I've been emotionally invested in someone else and dealing with all the same pain that relationships can bring.
I feel free again. The world has that new car smell. The seasons are changing, winter is coming and the end of this long, strange year is upon us.
But don't tell me to put myself out there because there's now a sign outside the door of my heart that reads,
And the door won't be opening again until there's a warm spring breeze that gets through the cracks.
I'm looking forward to spending time with me on snowy nights, cuddled up on the couch watching a Christmas movie.
I look forward to getting to know me better.
It feels really good to know
that if you called me tomorrow
and begged for me back
I'd be able to say,
It's nice to romanticize someone who took part in my life for a little while,
but its better to have someone to come home to after working all night and share my sausage egg biscuit with,
smoke a bowl and go to sleep.