It's as if I can't remember you.
It's as if you were a dream.
Not in a good way.
But in the fact that I remember you vaguely.
I'm going to be married soon.
I wish I didn't waste my time with you.
Cutting myself, because you caused me unnecessary pain.
But it was all in vain.
Maybe, I tried to get you to understand
That leaving me was wrong.
But I should have left you long before you decided that you wanted us to end
I should have said goodbye
Before you decided that you wanted to quit this fling
                                                                                     of nonsense.
                                                                               this relationship
                                                                                    of infatuation.
                                                                                this fake commitment
                                                                                    of so-called love
                                                                                 which ran off pangs
                                                                                   of emotional distress                    with                                                                            no real sense
                                                                                         of trust
and                                                                            revolved around
                                                                                  selfish feelings
                                                                                         of lust.

The agony is killing me
Does he ever talk about me?
Does he ever think about me?
Does he ever dream about me?
Or has he forgotten about me already?
Does he cringe every-time he remembers me?
And what exactly does he remember?
Has he really forgotten me?
Or does he refuse to remember the time we spent together
In rehab?
And how we made all those promises?

I have no idea
What's going to happen
In the future
Will I have a job?
Or will I have a career?
Will I ever go to college?
Or will I ever be homeless?
Would I buy liqour?
Probably not.
But let's face it.
I'm going to be lonely.
So.. Yeah, I might
Just so I can stop
Thinking so much
And drown my sorrows
In alcohol

Wish I could reach the stars
Take one and give it to him
But I'm not on top of the roof
Wish I could talk about everything
But I'm nervous
I'm afraid
So, I stay silent
I can't even reach for his hand
I wonder what's on his mind
He takes my hand
And I'm just staring into space
Wondering why

I'm 20.
Today.
Well, I'll be 20
At 8:33 pm.
Today.
20 is nice.
For an age.
I can't wait.
To be 20.

6-25-2015

I'm lacking interest
In my life, in my persona
I'm trying to change
Into someone who's more interesting
Into someone who isn't ever lacking
In areas of his or her life
Such as love, fun
And everyday conversations
But I'm failing
To live a life that is acceptable
To vegans, college kids
And overall cool people

I'm dieting
Sleeping a lot
Listening to loud music
Drinking lots of tea
Trying to hang out
With anyone and everyone
Having pointless conversations
Wishing I was high
To get my mind off you
But it's too hard
I don't know what else I can do
I got my undercut back
I'm going to get my gauges back
I'm going to look better
And feel better about myself
To forget you
To move on
I hope you notice me
I hope you dream about me
I hope you wish you missed what we had
Please come back
But until then,
I'll be doing me