The hours
of smoked cigarettes
is equivalent
to the time
it will take
for you to
**** me.

Self-entitled brat
from a dirt path,
she waves her ******* out the car
while blasting ****** rap.
Where social anxiety is cool
and a fad,
where pastels in your hair matter more
than the way you act.
Yeah, she thinks she's a yuppie
with a daddy
What a rude awakenin'
she gonna have.
Once she is older
and her personality is a drag.

...I do care.

Abuse can be present and still be so subtle that the person doing the abuse and the person experiencing the abuse don’t realize what is happening at the time. Not everything is text-book perfect, in life. Not everything is black and white. Abuse isn’t always intentional. Screaming every day, ignoring every day, choosing partners over child, choosing partners’ offspring over your own child, belittling, singling out, calling out, never touching, quick changing-environments (moving in with boyfriend’s after only a couple months, risking child’s safety—which includes mental health)…..is a form of abuse and neglect.  Please understand that I must emphasize how this was literally every day of my life. Constant chaos is all I know.

I am a warrior. I just haven’t reached the good part of that story in my life, yet. I like to think someday, all this **** I went through was for something.  I hope that something is me becoming strong. I hope I truly understand how to use the pain of the past as a tool to get me through tougher times. I hope that this wasn’t all for nothing. I will never recreate that hell for my own child, that’s for sure.

Getting famous; now that must be nice. Getting famous by being yourself? ******* jackpot.

Jumping beans,
itchy fiends.
Pop a couple
and feel like a queen.

Slave to the high,
I like to lie...
I don't know why.
Sunglasses in the dark,
I ain't no ******' narc.

Party till my heart drops,
or until the neighbors call the cops.
**** me softly,
or not.
I don't like to talk.

Stagnant and morose
as I transition throughout my duplex.
From chair to bed, bed to chair
staring at the wall and screens
Doing nothing, nothing I need to do.

Coffee at night and pills in the morning
and my therapist doesn't know me
like she should.
It's my fault, I suppose.

Articulating how I feel isn't my thing,
but it's a passion.
I understand everything I can't see and hear.
I just can't seem to breathe when I try to speak it.

It's pretty sad when "Guys my age" by Hey Violet
is a song I can understand.
I'm way too young to be feeling alone.
I have love and I'm still so ******* lonely.

I want to matter.
I want purpose.
I want my parents to love me.

Doesn't matter.
I won't find the words,
I won't find the feelings.
No matter how hard I try,
I was never programmed to do things right.

Maybe because they're my words,
that I will never feel anything other than obsolete.
I hope someone reads this and thinks I'm smart,
thinks I'm special,
thinks "she's neat"

Will that resolve my defeat?
Doesn't matter.
I am predetermined.
I am programmed.
I am a robot.

Women don't get as much done because they're always busy justifying themselves.

Fly high!
That's what they'll say,
after you wreck your car
and spill your brains.

They won't know--
or maybe they will.
****** tomb,
disguised as "wonderful daughter,
great friend."

Everyone has earplugs,
blindfolds too.
The epidemic is supplying
some for you.

Russian roulette
has some competition.
This ain't some new
invention...

Nobody cares--
it's not them.
Nobody cares--
unless it's them.
But it's too late by then.

5:25 P.M.

I have made a vow to myself.

I'll never let you go.

All the nicotine,
alcohol
and pills
can't wash you away.

You're a stain
I purposely poured ...
all over me.

I close my eyes
and I see
nothing but you.

Nothing but you and me.

Love ***** me up
---for better and for worse.

But I won't let my mother
and my father
pass down this....
curse.

Some day we will
purify our love
and it will no longer hurt.

I hope that baby feels like razor blades all the way out of your already-ruined ****.
You're beyond ******* hopeless you adulterer, simple, bipolar, unsuccessful, succubus bottom-feeder.
Eat **** and seriously DIE.
I hope you cry every night knowing that you've already peaked.
I hope your husband ***** more girls behind your back.
I hope you want to die when you realize you don't have it--you never did and you definitely don't have it now--and that nobody wants to **** your sack-of-potatoes body.
You're cruel and doomed to your repetitive ways because your IQ is unfathomably LOW.
I hope your ignorance dissipates only so you can be miserable in your pool of shittiness while your low IQ prevents you from ever saving yourself so you forever live a life in hell.
I don't even believe in God and I ******* HOPE HELL EXISTS SO YOU CAN FOREVER ROT.

****, I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE.

Keep your family close...

It's easy to forget about the people who are near you every day.
Don't take them for granted.
They are the answer to all your problems, in a way.
My grandmother hugged me today.
We both cried over my dying grandfather and her dying soulmate.
This death will bind us, bind the time I took for granted---No more of that.
I have made a pact to take care of her damaged heart--differently damaged, beautifully damaged heart.
It's broken like my grandfather's, who has a short time-span.
I'm as scared as he is.

lost someone to ******. first time but im sure it wont be the last...
havent spoken in 6 years but it still hurts a lot..to see these people grow up innocent and turn to a place so lonely and sad and dark..