I forget to brush my teeth sometimes.
I haven't done a sit up in years.
I'm in debt.
It's a wonder to me how I graduated high school.
I have introduced my girlfriend as "my *****."
I've experimented with drugs.
I've cut myself.
I don't floss. Ever.
I smoke too much.
I don't do sports.
My family Is destroyed.
I sleep on a futon.
I've made a lot of racist jokes.
I've been someone's bully.
I'm not too fond of myself.
I'm thankful that all my cavities are filled.
I do push ups every now and then.
I have a job.
I made the dean's list last semester.
I want real companionship.
I stopped smoking ****.
I don't cut anymore, but write instead.
I still don't floss. I never will.
I'm trying to quit smoking.
I don't really care for sports.
I am bereft beyond belief.
I sleep on a futon.
I'm not racist towards anyone.
I take a stand against bullies.
I'm not too fond of myself,
but I've come a long way.
Do you want to be with me?
Here's a would you rather
straight from the slaughter house.
Would you rather be hung
from a rope,
and have your throat slit,
or would you rather
have a drill pierce your skull?
We are human, not heifer,
but the fact still remains
would you rather a quick death,
or be left to suffer?
Personally I would choose hung.
I really wouldn't mind
I'm guessing I cried when I was born.
I can't remember how many times after that
while I was still an infant,
or a child for that matter.
So many tears. So many things not worth crying over-
I cried at summer camp at night,
because I missed my home.
I cried when I got suspended from school in fourth grade,
and when my mom screamed at me.
My childhood tears weren't worth wasting on slicing onions.
I cried much less as a teenager. I can almost remember the emotions when I did.
I cried when I got my heart broken.
I cried when I got too drunk to keep it all in,
and I cried when my mom told me she wished I was never born.
My teenage years proved to strengthen my ability to keep in the tears,
because I had lived through enough to have a whole new set of fears.
But what I didn't fear is what got me as an adult.
I didn't ever think my dad would die so soon,
and of course I cried with this guttural passion that still haunts me.
I didn't have any idea I would be put out on my own, and being this lonely is well worth a few tears.
I've cried while I wrote poetry,
and when I read it.
I want to cry right now, but my eyes have become numb and dry.
Instead I'm left thinking about what could possibly break through the threshold.
It's funny how crying can be such a defining milestone.
— The End —