this feeling of
upset,
frustrated,
sad,
misunderstood,
mad --
just makes me want
to rip my hair out of my head
and punch something.

knowing i full well
do not have the strength
to do
either.

i would break my knuckles
punching something,
and hurt my hands trying to
pull all my hair out.

im too weak.
that's what this was all about anyway,
im mad because im weak,
im sad because im too quiet,
im frustrated because no one hears me!
no one truly understands
my brain
and that will never change
no matter what i do.

no one but me is in here.

i feel things loudly,
and it feels like
im being swallowed
by multiple intense
feelings
all at
once.

and it's just too much,
for one girl.
one brain.
one heart.
one voice.

it makes me want to yank my hair out
and punch something
until my knuckles are red and ******.

i think she likes me.
im just
not sure.
because that controlling
**** of a boyfriend
she has
is stopping me 
from ever really knowing.

she acts a way with him,
that makes it seem like
she's folding in
on herself.
he's homphobic,
agressive,
cold,
fifteen,
but already trying
to shrink the world
she lives in.

he checks her phone,
accesses her
social media via
her password
and getting mad
when she talks to
me.
what did i ever do?
she's allowed to
have friends.

but i think she likes me.
last night,
we flirted.
soft, small things --
but they felt
like secrets.
ones that if he knew,
he'd flip.
she'd say it was a friendly bunch
of compliments --
that meant nothing.
but her smile,
her eyes --
they told
a different story.

shes all i think about
day and night --
twenty-four / seven.
she's always
on my mind.

interstate,
but im still calling.
she always answers late,
never in the mood.
and she wont wait --
not for me.
and not for anyone.

she's infecting my dreams,
shes rewriting my thoughts,
even changing my music
into sappy love songs
i swore i hated.

she's taken over
my life,
my breath,
my hours --
day and night,
twenty-four / seven.

im tempted --
to dial your number,
to send that text,
to drive to yours,
to run into your arms.

im tempted.
because i miss you.
i miss your warmth,
your scent --
that cold vanilla
and lavender scent
that was yours,
and only yours.

but most of all
im tempted
to just cry.
crying over you
sounds like a waste of tears.
but it'll just 
have to do.
because for now,
its all i have.
and you're not here.

...and i don't think
you'll be coming
back.

hey,
future me.
it's july seventh.
and this year has
definetly been one
for the books.

im lucky enough
to still have the friends
i do
because everybody
started turning their backs
on eachother.
and that made me very
anxious
to lose someone
i love.

america might be slowly
dying a painful death.
the climate too.
australia is
or was
trying to follow in
america's footsteps.
women are slowly
losing
their rights.
a possible war.

it's not the greatest time
to be alive.
but it could be worse,
and honestly,
i think that's the only way
im getting through it.
because,
i have it good.
some people don't have
what i do.
and it makes me feel
horrible
when i realise
im taking it all for granted.

i hope the air is safer
a few years from now.
i hope america has
a better life.
i hope women have
their rights.
i hope the earth
isn't suffering so bad
from the climate crisis.

but i can only hope.
and draft this text.

im not even mad anymore --
im just just
tired
of your antics.
you twisted things
so well
that i actually
started to believe
that i was the villain
in my own story.

you were loud,
but somehow,
im the one that
they stopped
listening to.
it's funny
how that works, huh?

i wont send this.
because you would
more than likely --
just turn it into another reason
to prove me wrong.
but honestly,
youre not worth my voice
anymore.

hey,
im not quite sure
how to say this.
ive typed it a hundred times
and deleted it
every time.
i like girls.
i don't quite know what that
changes for you --
but it doesn't change who ive
always been.
im still me.
still your daughter.
i just finally wanted to tell you
the truth about myself.
even if it's scaring the **** out of me.
especially if you don't understand,
i hope one day,
you'll still see me
the same.
just more...
whole.
more real.
and more
me.

but im not sending this.
im not ready.