Johnny 16 years old, dear (diary) journal whatever,

Ive been a hypocrite

Ive been a hypocrite because i hate school yet i follow around the norms and the rules and their curriculum when i believe a student will never learn from them,
Ive been a hypocrite because my classmates ****, but then they ask me for life advice and i give it to them expertly
And how funny is it that i hate them but i like helping
Ive been a hypocrite because i hate my acne of a face so i embarrasingly ask for ****** tips from my sister Jessica, yet i claim that i dont care anyway
Ive been a hypocrite because i debate over human rights with my teacher yet i think about the end of the world too much
Im a hypocrite for giving my virginity to some older woman just because i want to feel HUMANE
to feel like THEM, like all the people i hate
And maybe that is why i dont like LIVING because i become "them"

Will i be CURED if i become them?

This girl in the coffee shop stubbed her cigarette on the same cup i used to put mine out
And every cigarette we killed in it together
Was a word we spoke to each other

I cant help but feel a tinge of annoyance seeing someone else extinguish their cigarette in OUR cup
Every tap of their *** to clean the ashes off felt like a throb in my head
The girl glances at me from her table
I dont look back anymore

She sat on my lap
The bow of her lips curving into a sinful smirk
                              
Knowing exactly what it does to me
Her hands
Behind her back looking submissive
But her thighs caged firmly against my hips disregarding obedience
                                                      
"What's that behind your back?" I simply ask. It could be anything;
It could be a knife and there will be nothing I could possibly do
I'm hers.
"Nothing." She smiles casually but the way she slightly shifts around my lap says otherwise.
        
               Nothing.
She's nervous.
She waves a silver foil you would never possibly be mistaken for anything; circles of pale blues, whites and pinks rattling inside its bubble.
"Are you sure" i simply ask.

Shes not.
Blinded by pleasure and pleasing.
She always believed she was unlucky. She believes one day these pills won't do its purpose.
A mistake that would happen.
***** you, most new borns are mistakes.
Life could be a mistake. We didn't choose this?
But she chose me.
She doesn't trust the world; hell, she doesnt even trust herself.
But she trusts me, she whispers and starts begging me to fill her up
Claim her
Give everything to her.
She wants it.
Life. Mistakes. Doesn't matter as long as its with me.
She trusts me.
I give it to her.
And that was enough.

Shes claimed my heart like it always belonged to her, claimed it today, and yesterday. She's waiting for it in the future, unattainable for anyone else, so sure of herself that no one is going to love me the way she ever will.

I say it hurts,
her love hurts it's not right. She says hold this pain for abit longer please, she begs, im weak but the pain is stronger. Shes squeezing my hand, "are we okay"
I say "yeah" ,  frail to squeeze back. She'll blame me, she'll blame me that i loved her once.

And maybe cause the thing is, no matter how i drown myself with priorities, dreams or just generally making myself feel better without you
I come home, not home