As I was driving home, I watched the lightning.
I couldn't decide if it was heat lightning or actual storm lightning.
My answer came when it started to rain lightly.
And while I watched the lightning, my mind wandered to some dark places.
As I drove I daydreamed of a young girl standing in this weather.
Her clothes were soaked and stuck to her skin as she too watched the lightning.
Her eyes were transfixed on the crazy lines that broke the sky into pieces and the light that shaded each part.
But her mind, it wasn't paying any attention to the beautiful show before her.
Her mind was only thinking of the blade hiding in her pocket.
She reached her hand in the pocket and pulled out the tiny tool.
As soon as it was in her hand she sat on the wet earth beneath her and kept her eyes focused on the illuminated sky.
She didn't need to look down as she took the blade and made a deep cut from elbow to wrist on both arms.
And as soon as the damage was done, she laid back and let rain fill her veins while her blood watered the grass.
It was at this time that I had finally pulled into my driveway.
It was also at this time that I realized, the girl I was daydreaming about was me.
The girl I daydreamed was doing something I had longed to do but couldn't make myself do.
As I got out of my car, I tried erased those thoughts from my head.
Another long week was almost over, and I wasn't yet dead.

I never understood the concept of a broken heart.
I've always questioned why someone would put their life, dreams, and soul into a glass jar and throw it to another person hopeing that the person wouldn't let the jar slip through their finger tips and fall to the cement below. Just the thought of giving myself to another human and hopeing they want to make sure my glass doesn't crack makes me feel woozy. And if the person lets the jar slip from their fingers, if that person doesn't make sure the glass won't crack, you have to deal with your whole world shattering on the **** cement. I've never understood why people do that, until I met him.
He made me believe there was a protective layer around my glass. That even if my glass was thrown across a room as hard as he could throw it, it wouldn't even crack.
So I handed him my jar and he hung it inches above the floor by a string that was fraying in the middle. He swing it back and forth on a knife blade waiting for the string to break. Now, I've never understood the concept of a broken heart, but the day the string finally broke, I felt my whole being shatter on the ground. I felt chunks of myself being broken into little shards and the small pieces went everywhere. I may not understand the concept of a broken heart, but I now know that I never want to.

Who'll you blame for the falling stars
When you're the one picking at them?

       But I only tried to rescue the moon
       He was stuck after the sun.

I want a father
simple as that

it makes me feel guilty
wanting another man to take your place
but sometimes I think
having a father in my life is the only way
I'm going to feel okay
that maybe with a strong man
in my life
I'll suddenly be confident
and I won't be afraid
of being the last one awake
and I won't be afraid
when another man talks to me

I want a father
it's simple as that

i am sorry,
that i drank your words up
like you were some kind of infatuating bottle of forever.
i am sorry,
that i used my ears as lungs
to inhale all of your problems
and exhale my advice,
knowing that the second your cancer took over my mind
and i could no longer breathe anymore
you would go away
and look for your next victim to intoxicate.
i am sorry, that i cut into my chest
and ripped out ever last living flower in me,
just to see you smile for a second
and i am sorry,
that i let you become so obsessed with the fact that
i was willing to give you the best parts of me
so that you could put yourself back together again.
because i know, that if you had a chance
to give me the same pill of love that i gave you,
you would pack it full of your selfish ambitions
and tell me to drink it down with a glass of self-destruction.
because you didn't care the way i did
and you didn't love the way i did
and i said i would take a bullet for you
but i am sorry.
i am so sorry,
that i let you pull the trigger
and use me as your target practice.