Not I'm the back of a worn out Car with a horny boy who pretends I have any chance of getting back Together with him if I maybe let him Fuck me for a minute.
I'm not good enough in the back of the courtoom, Tears in my eyes, wishing it wasn't true. Wishing so fucking hard it wasn't true That my dad wasn't going to fucking Jail for 2 years. That maybe if I had Been a better daughter he would have stayed.
Maybe if I had been a better girlfriend then He would have stayed. Instead he...
I could be a slut I could fuck shit up I could drink 'till I'm drunk and silence all the screaming voices that bounce about in my sick head but I won't.
I could hit rock fucking bottom I could get worse if I wanted I could die but I'm already so haunted and these voices echoing my past are stronger than ever and I could die; my sick head I could just fucking sever... but I won't (maybe I should).
Now all I think about is getting worse, is becoming less like the girl I used to be. I wanna die. I wanna fucking SCREAM....
I always search for your silhouette. In the darkness, sitting in my truck and I'm waiting and I see a shadow move (another one) and I hope it's you. Please be you.
When it's so dark out it's hard to tell what's a tree, what's you, and what's my imagination of the evil in the shadows.
Because when I see something move, my heart pounds. It could be you. It could be a serial killer or the boogeyman or the devil himself but so far it's only been the love of my life, approaching my car. Still my damn imagination gets the...
I know for a fact that there is nothing worse than seeing you hurt. And I see it.
I know you want everyone to think you're tough and you're a damn good liar, but I know.
I'm sorry life is hell for you right now but I'm here for you. I love you. It'll be okay.
The thing is, in your words I can hear the ache. Your smile isn't the same. It's frail and weak and makes me want to cry but there's no way I'd ever really ask you if you were alright. You look just fine to anyone who doesn't actually care about you. Right now...
He's not responding and I can feel my heart stuck in my throat making it so hard to breath or think or do anything beside try not to cry and I have so much homework to do but I miss you and I love you and I'm so sorry I couldn't see you earlier please just text back I can feel myself crumbling and falling apart and I have so much to do but I can't do fucking anything I can't focus I can't fucking breath please please just text me back
Yet another poem to write. Another day to get through. Another breath to breathe. Just some more blood to bleed.
Time moves on but I don't and I never will.
When I sleep, my heart still beets and my lungs still subconsciously force air in and out of my tired lungs. During the deepest state of sleep, my eyes dart back and forth in my skull. My intestines and stomach digest and yet it feels like I've stopped.
I'm getting motion sickness from life. I'm dizzy and confused and I miss you and that's all I really...