"I think you're a *******"
We both laugh
The words leave my friend's mouth,
meant as a joke,
but there is a sad truth to her words

I can still feel the scars of my past
My skin is bare;
The abuse was emotional, verbal, mental
The bruises are internal

Give everything you have,
earn neglect in return
Give too much of yourself,
and they continue to take until nothing is left

But you love the thrill
How rapid your heart beats,
as you fear that they'll never return

Break my hard shell,
and beat me until
I can no longer feel

"Even as you close your eyes to sleep,
My love for you remains true and deep,
It’s you I love and forever will keep,
I’m here to say sweet dreams
before we both fall asleep."

Let’s go trainspotting
or did I mean train hopping?
we’ll pick apples from the trees
out back under dark night skies
when nobody is watching
and we’ll drink water from gas station bathrooms
and coca cola from the glass bottle
Do you think
that before the cell phone towers were erected
people ever sent drunk letters?
Natives on Ayahuasca sending smoke signals
which say heyy!
I was thinking about you
and in the morning do you think they check the embers
and go oh ****
what did I do last night?
the chief is going to give me so much ****
the thing is
the things I say to you
with something in my system
are truer than all of the well calculated
across the room stares and smiles
and at night
while I stand lookout
while you pick apples
maybe I’ll drink some apple cider
and send you a drunk conversation
but when I’m with you
It’s like I’m drunk on puppy love
so you can believe
every text I send you

when my dad cries he can't talk.
there's a pregnant silence while he whistles air through his pursed lips
trying to catch onto words.
a slight wheeze
a reoccurring clearing of the throat
as if this would distract you from what was happening -

when my dad cries
he can't talk;
he doesn't cry very often.
when i cry
all i do is talk

i am still my mother.

sometimes, i stand back.
and i look at myself as a stranger might see me.
and i am forced to realize that maybe i do a little too much.

i take on the problems of everyone around me.
i face their demons as if they were my own.
i make myself responsible for all those who i love.

it's kind of funny in retrospect.
i work so hard to keep everyone alive,
yet i have so little regard for my own life.

like if i disappeared, what would it really matter?
but in truth, if i was gone,
who would take over my role in so many lives?

i cannot ignore pain as most can.
i cannot see you hurt and just walk away,
i am compassionate and i am selfless.

and i believe that it may be killing me.
because not only do i feel my own depression,
i feel the depression of fifteen of my closest friends.

i drown over and over and over again.
today i was okay, every tragedy of everyone i love at bay.
but then it struck again. at the person i value above the rest.

i feel the need to save everyone and anyone.
and i can never and will never accept that i cannot do that.
i will save them all, or die trying.

because i will face your demons,
i will take responsibility for your life,
and i will suffer right next to you.

*because i love you

when i was little, i dreamt of being a princess
because taking charge is what i do best
and why not do it in a long pink dress?

i may not be royalty but i am royally *******
by being an overemotional teenager who ...
listens a bit too much to what society says
and not enough to what she has to say
about herself

i feel like that needle in a haystack
when it comes to the future.
i’m still asking if i can use the bathroom
when i’m expected to have my whole life planned out
by the time the leaves start to change
and i have to surgically remove my arm to sell on the streets so four years from now i’m not living on one ... with nothing but a fancy degree held above my head when it rains the cold realization that i am $100,000 in debt
and have no idea what i’m doing


so what am i supposed to do
when i still find myself comparing who i am now,
to who i could have become
without the challenges of 2012
still hanging on my shoulders


when i lay in bed at night,
thinking about how different i would be
if life hadn’t thrown me a curveball
that knocked me off home plate and out of my comfort zone,
out of the dreams of an ivy league school or graduating with high honors -
when i’m just lucky to be graduating on time.

while my peers are getting acceptance letters,
i’m getting the reminder that the battle has just begun,
the war of me against myself in accepting the past as it is,
regretting my mental disorder will not make it go away no matter how hard i fight.

i know that forgiveness equals growth,
a never-ending road of
constantly changing
twisting and winding
paths that never seem to have any clues
as to which one is the right one.

i’ve blindly picked a path, a quest if you will.
i am on a quest to be the best
no no, let me rephrase, MY best
because my best is all i can give and someday,
those that told me otherwise
will be eating those sugar coated words
when i have finally accepted MY best is true success.

so when i was little, i did dream of becoming a princess
but today, i’m dreaming of being a better me than yesterday