what’s the ******* point
one day you could be perfectly content
the next everything could be ripped away
if everything is going to go to **** anyway
if you know your happiness won’t last
why does it even matter.

It’s NOT FAIR.
YOU get to have one.
Someone who watches football games with you
And tells you you’re his baby girl
And retells the story of when you were born
And watches movies with you
And who you can tell things to that no one else will understand.
You get to have a father.
I don’t.
It’s.
Not.
Fair.

If you find yourself wanting a sign
So you don’t go on by yourself
Don’t you think that wanting a sign
is proof that you should within itself?

Happy birthday to you
Did you know we love you
We miss you, dear father,
And we hope you do too.

Live it up in heaven
You should visit us again
We think about you always,
And we hope you do too.

my socialization meter is down to zero
I’d be happier if I was the only one
but no one else thinks that two.

they’re right when they say a crowd is three.
but what am I asking four?
loneliness instead of a high five?

haven’t been this antisocial since age six.
I’m supposed to be there by seven
but it’s still the morning; maybe eight.

I might be over it a little by nine,
but I’ll never feel like a full ten.

Like glass,
I can shatter.
Quickly, draw
the shutters.
I know you
can see through
and it’s fun
to take in the view;
Watch me crumple
under stress
but it’s best
if the curtain covers
while the window cracks
because
there’s no going back
once you’re struck
by the broken shards
of glass.

maybe you needed a guardian angel
and that’s where he is now.