tattoos poked into my upper thighs read “DAD” “MOM”

i am a ghost of the girl in the photograph hanging in the same place same wall same house

i touch myself in my bedroom i think of him tonight, another tomorrow

casual ***, *******

i’m not your little girl

i’m not their little girl

i belong to no one i drift i fall

into the arms of someone who does not love me

out of the arms of DAD and MOM

i see in their eyes they worry they look into mine

measure the size of my pupils tonight wonder if i look dull cause i’ve been getting high again

or if i’ve succumbed to another bout of depression

maybe they know me at least they think they do but

how could they have me figured out

when the ?person? i am and the person i was

haven’t been acquainted since i turned from

DAD and MOM to

the things that came with being 19?

I'm nineteen.  I don't know where to go.  What path to take?
I'm strong yet scared of people.
I'm fearless but I'm afraid to talk.
I have my strong thoughts.
I have my will. But I am afraid.  I don't know where to go.

He's 23; got his 30M and his own factory.
He's 22; got his own factory inaugurated by the president.
They're in their 20's.  Their bringing in a big chain of a foreign franchise to our country.  
They're young.  They are meeting with the big bosses of hotels.

Back to me.
Here I am.  I'm nineteen.  Where do I go now?

Dying is not the real pain.
The real pain is living inconsequentially
futilely, while others forbid you to die,
but forbid you feel earnestly;
seeing a whole unblemished person,
but little do they know
I am already dead.

#

It's not my pain that disgusts them,
it's the cutting
and that's why they treat the symptoms
but neglect the cause
and forbid me to talk about her
because the sound of her name
makes you regret me.

#

I AM MATURE:
I am new and improved and dead.

efδyWε2hκlmά1dρh3α

miles before we became
men full-blown,
we crunched nails for lunch,
lead for dinner,
heartburn for life....

after the dance
came shock therapy
and dreams interrupted,
incomplete
like pages ripped
from the manUScript of me
slicing apple pies
under the white picket fence
while babies chase bubbles over the lawn,
green like malvoes in cantho...

pages torn...
discarded...
unpublished...

and the author is dead!

~ P
(#19in71)

Undeniable draw with a
taste for the taboo,
my world is sparkling
all over, all over.
And he is all over me,
warm weight and bad jokes
and I just can't stop laughing.
The world is my oyster
but sometimes I clam up,
so afraid of how strong
all my emotions are.
But I'm not scared long,
or I'm scared and I'm smiling,
because it feels so good to
look into his eyes.
I'll wade in the waters
in a big pink pool tube
laughing at the riptide as
I'm carried away, I'm carried away,
I'm always getting carried away.
Dip my toes in the gold for a moment,
leaving twenty little prints in
the wake of my day.

I feel inspired
Inspired to write
Like my father and father before me
Inspired
To fight the good fight
For I know it's my purpose to show people
There's a light
Deep inside of them even if they
Don't see it shine so bright
For I know that every line
And breathe, breathed in to me
Is for a reason
Addi gave me 19
19 reasons I wasn't swimming in a sea
Of misconstrued energies
Lost in repetition
Everlasting patterns
They poud on but never see
Round and round they go
In the pattern of the beast
Lost blindly in a daily regimen
A material sin
They'll never see
If it wasn't for like lost boys like
Addi
Who make it there mission
To tell everybody
That these lines have a reason
Each year an eternal voice
It's all your choice
Addi sketched something on a night so bleak
On a page once blank
A work of art I'm blessed to keep
And written above those masterful 19 lines
"Put it in your thought bank
You don't have to be alone
You don't have to run away"

I missed—
Never mind, it was time to let go.
I used to wish I’d never met you
but if I hadn’t,
I wouldn’t have assessed what I wanted or
what I needed.

But I wish you the best,
And to eventually find her.
Treat her better.
Love her better.

But not before I,
Because let’s be honest here:
I’m too sensitive—you said it yourself.
You were never mine; a year’s worth of time
Will make you realize that.
I still love you though,
I’m still here—don’t worry,
it’s strictly platonic.

But don’t forget I was always good to you.
I will always be good to you.
But I’m better to myself now.
And even though it still hurts a little—and
This moment presses ******* the wound
You left,
I don’t regret a **** thing.