It's not like I like going out so much because I hate my family or because I'm headed down a bad path of drugs and party life, it's just that I like to forget how empty I feel and spend my life with people I enjoy and have a good time until it's too late.
Can't stop, won't stop.
I need to meet new people.
I need to meet people that are as down for me I am for them.
Let's do stupid things together like 'Dine and Dash' or lie to our parents, tell them we're sleeping over at each other's houses, and go on a road trip for the weekend.
Let's hop fences and do hoodlum things in the night and make up elaborate lies saying how, "No, it wasn't us who wrote 'Eat ****' in paint on your car."
And for God's sake, let's be there for each other, and genuinely concerned as if it was our own problem, and know there's something wrong before the other can even utter a whimper.
I want someone who I'm not afraid to call my best friend without the fear that they don't feel the same way.
I want someone who knows what I want,
I want someone who knows I write, who knows what my goals are,
What my favorite movie is and knows that this is a trick question because I don't have just one.
I want someone who knows I feel like this.
I want someone who can figure me out.

How can you look me in my eyes
And withhold so many lies?
Is it that I am naive to believe that people do still have common decency?
What is it about me that just screams   not worth the effort or work?

Blood boiling
Ears ringing
Constant ******* screaming
So that you would understand
Why this **** has meaning.

Bitter cold
This is getting old.
How come I wasn't told?
A month later
Pieced together
With no sure clue
As to who was true.
But I did the easiest thing
And cut the last string
Between me and you.

Grown tired of feeling dumb.
I am finally numb.

She doesn't have the fairest snow white skin, and naturally straight silky hair. If it isn't the common stereotypical European looks that would classify her as beautiful, it would be the way she covers her smile when she's shy, or the way she glows when you remember just a small detail about her that shows you care. What makes her beautiful is her bright butterscotch skin and deep dark eyes that you say "has a sparkle in them", outlined with bags that has nothing to do with how much sleep she has. What makes her beautiful is the way she nestles into your neck and makes the sweetest sighs. What makes her beautiful is the way she can go from a raging storm destroying everything in her path, to a seductive flirt who always gets her way, to a truly sweet innocent girl who makes the cutest baby-like noises that you start to catch yourself doing too and it becomes you two's own secret language. What makes her even more beautiful, is that to others she looks cold and detached, but to you, you see a whole broad spectrum within her that she gladly opens to you, and only you.

I want to wake up to the sun pouring through the windows and onto your sleeping face where you look so peaceful.
I want to spend a Sunday doing absolutely nothing with you but lay in bed together and watch Netflix. Maybe smoke a joint and watch a super funny movie.
I want you to see me in a tank top and boxers with my hair a mess and think that I am just a perfect soul(even though I'm not).
I want to roll around on your bed with you and just be silly and annoying.
I want to fall asleep in your embrace just to wake up in the morning and see your cute bedhead and sleepy face smiling and wonder, "How could I be so blessed?"

I thought about the
midnight starry sky
in my head.
Passed out drunk
and blushing red
stretched out giggling
laying on your bed.
*** in my eyes
but innocence
in my smile.
Slurring speech
while nibbling love bites
under the moonlight
lust filled the air
in that starry night sky
from where it all begun.

It was a 10:54 a.m. morning breeze
as I stood waiting for the bus
harvest leaves pranced in the roads
while cars drove by
pushing the autumn sweetness

A happy image of your
best friend Josh's face came to mind,
followed by a faded remembrance
of how in love we were
last year around this time
but
the faint numbness
settling in my chest
reminded me
that those days were long gone

At 10:57
the bus slowed to a halt
the doors opened
and I remembered
I will be sixteen
this Fall.