At 12 years old
you learned the majority of stars
were already dead.
They are masters of deception
giving you hope that beauty
is permanent
and love is forever.
You learned that love
is too often a lie
and promises find themselves
shattered on linoleum floors
that you step on in the night.
At twelve,
you learned that your bones are fragile
paper thin like the birth certificate
you’ve never seen,
buried under other things
you never really cared about.
You found truth
at 3 am in your bedroom
followed by rivers of tears
and open pill bottles.
You saw life
and you saw death
and sometimes those nights
when you were twelve
are the only things that make you feel
like the world is real.
When you were twelve
you found out the stars were dead.
When you were twelve
you found out that you were not.

When I was thirteen
I thought that I wouldn’t make it through the year
birthdays felt like due dates
that I was never going to make
and each day brought me closer
to my ultimate fate of nothingness.
My bones felt like they were
filled with lead
and my eyelids sank as if they
only knew how to fall
like the rest of my body
into sleep.
I thought each moment was
a ticking time bomb
that was going to blow up
and leave my family to mourn
the life of someone who chose not to live it anymore.
I was so broken by my own brain
that nothing seemed worth it
and the easiest thing would have been
to step into the water
and let my leaden bones
pull me down.
When I was thirteen
I saw nothing but emptiness
within my own chest
and a body that would soon be useless.
When I was thirteen
I did not know what the future held for me
with laughter and love
and everything I would eventually dream of.
When I was thirteen
I was wrong
about most everything,
especially that I would never make it
through the year.

I told him a bedtime story tonight
stood over him as he thrashed
mad in the throes of far away passion
                  wild in the warm embrace of jack and coke
he needed a happy story
so I told him one
about two beautiful princes
who fell in love
and saved the world
                                 what were their names?  
I told him their names
and he fell asleep, lost in dreams of a world
where two princes in love
would be a completely normal thing

We were indefinite
moments

We were habits
built and snapped
promises made and snuffed

We were village idiots
nocturnal cretins running
stop signs and red lights
and bounding a hundred miles an hour
down empty highways
at three o’clock in the morning

chattering and chortling
and secretly feeling
at each other’s hearts

trying to hoodwink the universe
into believing
even for a moment

that we were more
than just a flock of sleepless kids
searching for unattainable
meaning

Nostalgic for a life I never lived.
These False memories keep me sane.
A rapturous child with so much potential.
I want to be small again.

04/25/2015

i skip classes until 12 PM to lay in my bed, watch gossip girl, and eat chocolate chip cookies. i like to go to punk rock shows in basements and headbang until my neck starts to ache. i like taking occasional breaks from contemplating my life to dip out to my neighbor's backyard to smoke cigs and talk politics. i really wish that people gave a **** about the seattle mariners. i wanna be a play-by-play radio announcer for the seattle mariners. my counselor tells me that i'm unbelievably driven for someone who's failing 3 out of 4 classes. black is my favorite color.

i like conspiracy theories and pretending that i'm in an alternate universe where the most remote islands on earth are easily accessible for whenever i wanna get the **** out of this place. i wish i was a visual artist because words emotionally drain me. i'm not what anybody wants. i wear hawaiian shirts that are 4 sizes too big for me with cutoff levi's and red lipstick. i still want to drop out of high school. i have a crush on someone new every week. i cry a lot but i'm the happiest ******* the west coast. i need to get my **** together.

Atypical that’s what I think of myself  but no one cares, their lives go on indefinitely
Because who knows what life has to offer, what is life, my teenage eyes are blinded and can't comprehend or understand such complex questions.
Caring for none than thyself. Those words are mentioned to me, every time I attempt to say or do anything for my family.
Despite all the people and a family that accompany us, we still feel unheard and unloved.
Existentialism is a cruel thing. I’m not ready, not ready for my comptent of existence.
Fear and terror are instilled in my heart, a fear of what the future has to bring.
Growth. I see my own growth and germination and I feel lost
Have I learned enough? Will I survive in this enhanced world? Has my heart grown enough?
I miss my innocence. Innocence was bliss. A wonderful and unexpected bliss. It was protection, protection from the world that I now have to face.
Joy is not something as easy to feel as it had been, joy was underestimated by me. Joy is not underrated
Keen to survive and lay my roots down. Keen to believe in goodness and love.
Lost, that's what I am, lost in a sea of people
Maltreatment is not something that is inflicted by others, it's something that one can inflict on thyself. Maltreatment is disdain that runs deeper than any blade
Nostalgia is overwhelming but it's something that I feel most of the days
Oppression clouds my thoughts and feeling, as I try to find the light that is my voice.
People pass by and can't hear or see me. I am being ignored by people who know who they are.
Quivering, my hands are still quivering from all the pain and memories.
Realizing that hope is for fools.
Shoving my feeling inside
Trying to grasp on reality
Understanding that my existence is not known.
Victory will be one of those words unheard for me.
Wilting and withering. I am slowly wilting and withering into the ground.
X-rays won’t fix me as I go down this path of disdain
Years will pass and I still can't comprehend why I am here.
Zippering up and hunkering down.