I light cigarette after cigarette
to sort my own thoughts into piles of “*******” and “worse *******”
just to create some kind of order in my head.
I told myself to never stop trying,
to never stop learning but,
I continuously find myself reviewing the things I've known for months
and even years.
I think sometimes humans get too comfortable with their minds
and that's why the human brain never will never be used to its potential.
Personally, I have gotten way too comfortable in the past couple of years.
But the comfort I obtained was none that could be considered enjoyable or blissful. I have became Comfortable with lying and being lied to.
I found comfort in the makeup *** that lasts 20 minutes after the two days of crying. I found comfort in the word crazy because at least I wouldn't look stupid.
I looked very stupid.

I almost never questioned if he was the right one.
Not because I believed he was, because I was too scared he wasn't.
How easy is it to fall in love with the wrong person?
True love has to be easier? Or is this it? This isn't what I've dreamed about.
This isn't what I read in books and it's not what's on mtv.

There's never a happy ending.
The only happy ending I've ever known is laying down,
in the seats in the back of my car for a quickie to ease the tension.
I hate ***. He made me hate physical contact. He made me hate mental contact.
I just wanted to sing songs to each other while dancing in our underwear.
I wanted to twist his tiny curls.

He wanted money.
He wanted to work.
I wanted to go to school to create a life for us.
He wanted me to stay here and stay miserable.
I wanted him. He wanted her.
That's how the game always worked. I wanted one thing, he wanted another.