Last day of 2019

To fill-up on pre-twenties thrills and dump old regrets before the etch-a-sketch of your life is shaken clear once more

What might be last chances to indulge the whims of the former version of yourself

And what might be impossible this year will become an accomplishable goal with the flipping of the calender

Have been counting down this moment for the last 24 hours and finally midnight is here

I counted every single cigarette that she put out,
without smoking,
1. I thought of her favorite shade of lipstick,
how she used it to write "*******"
on the bathroom mirror.
2. I thought of safety pins,
and the ones she chained around her neck
as a reminder,
that she didn't want to remember anymore.
3. I thought of music,
how she listened to songs on repeat,
just so she wouldn't forget that they were once her favorite,
that they might still be her favorite.
4. I thought of her hoodie,
the smell of smoke stayed with it,
and she hated it.
5. I thought of the ways she wrote out her pain,
always more poetic than it really felt,
always sweeter than it seemed.
6. I thought of every dinner that she hadn't eaten in months,
every breakfast sent down the drain,
and all those midnight snacks she cried over having.
7. I thought of her funeral,
it hasn't happened yet but she says it will be beautiful,
she's planned it herself,
she isn't planning on going to it.
8. I thought of all the notes she has written to me,
signed each one with a different name,
she wants to be someone else but doesn't know who.
9. I thought of her dainty hands,
holding her black lighter,
flicking it on and off,
rhythmic, soothing almost,
but that wasn't really her,
not rhythmic or soothing.
10. This was the last one she lit,
a girl made of smoke,
but without the smoke anymore,
now she's just a girl,
and there's nothing left to count.

Some things are to be grateful for,
you're one of them.

I text my girl,
She leaves me on read,
Then she says she's tired,
And I say I'm dead,
Then she asks why,
And I say because,
I'm not getting kisses,
And I'm not getting hugs,
And I don't know,
The next time I'll see you,
So I'll sleep and I'll sleep,
Until I've received my cue,
To come on over,
Or she comes to me,
I have to have hope,
I have to believe,
That this girl won't leave,
I really hope she'll stay,
Cause if she ever left,
I'd have one more day,
To figure out,
How I'm going to die,
Then **** myself,
Cause ***** being alive,
If I have to live,
Without my girl,
My sweet sweet baby,
My entire world,
My entire universe,
The planets the stars,
The slowest of snails,
The fastest of cars,
Literally,
My everything,
Makes me want,
To rap and sing,
And write about,
Her pretty face,
Her perfect ***,
Her sweet embrace,
I miss it so,
I'll go to sleep,
I may wake up,
From this long dream,
Then I'll go back,
To counting sheep,
Missing her back,
To counting sheep.

my socialization meter is down to zero
I’d be happier if I was the only one
but no one else thinks that two.

they’re right when they say a crowd is three.
but what am I asking four?
loneliness instead of a high five?

haven’t been this antisocial since age six.
I’m supposed to be there by seven
but it’s still the morning; maybe eight.

I might be over it a little by nine,
but I’ll never feel like a full ten.