We were fifteen
Writing stories in our skin with long nails and steak knives
Girls in my friend group would starve themselves for fun
My girlfriend used to tell me that she overdosed
Just to see how I would react

Sometimes I’m surprised we’re all still living
Maybe not alive but not dead either
I still spend most of my nights crying
Growing up is funny like that

At twenty I question how any of us made it through highschool
My old friends survive off of little pink pills and Smirnoff
You could drink ***** out of their collar bones
I can see the sadness in their bones, visible through translucent skin
How were we better off at fifteen

I still can’t smell blood without wanting to throw up
Jagged skin makes me nostalgic for a love I never should’ve had
Whenever I see a tombstone I think of him

At seventeen a teacher asked what I wanted to be
How badly I wanted to say happy
I never imagined I’d make it past eighteen

nothing is wrong
but something doesn’t feel right
i am an actress in a play who has tears in her eyes
because the script changed and
now she doesn’t know her lines.
the spotlight burns on my skin
i know this is a defining moment
the universe has its eyes on me
but all I can do is speak echoes of what I rehearsed
Uncertainty and Anxiety press against my chest
as if trying to break through my ribcage
and crush my heart
i want to leave the stage
quit the play
burn the script
but I love my role too much
and I want those flowers when the curtain falls

Quit acting like
the centuries afterward will praise you.
right now you held up a clerk with a pocket knife
And will be another useless cog in the system.

That's if your lucky.
If you outrun the five-oh
and brushed up on your parkour enough to jump 10 feet to the next building roof.

That's if the shingles don't crumble under you once your weight impacts the roof.

That's if your bandana doesn't fall off and the five-oh identifies you because you and your dad were pulled over by them yesterday because he was speeding.

That's if your significant other isn't dumped by you because you know she's ******* that Black guy for his money and clothes.

That's if you can go through another semester scraping by.

That's if your not reported for bullying because you made fun of the kid who didn't wear name brand clothes but looked like a rich Jew anyway.

That's if your trap EP gets plenty of playbacks on Soundcloud. In reality it's just you moaning into the great void as it is drenched in auto-tune.

(ahh yaaaah yuhh yuh yuh yuh yuuuu yuuu tuuu get the strap oooOooOOoO)

That's if your codeine doesn't run out and you go into brain-damaging withdrawal.

That's if you don't engrave your fist into someone's skull because he noticed you limping to class after that cramp you had.

That's if you just seek affection from yourself when this *****-*** world ***** itself as you are caught in it's way.

Passenger seat.
Windows down.
Sun in my eyes.
Love sits on my left.
And there's trust
In the breeze.
We create little expeditions,
Until the real freedom comes.
Adventure glints in both set of eyes,
And we long for that day
When the world is completely ours.
As for now,
We walk on the edge of the limits,
Trespassing sometimes.
The wind blows through our hair
The sun gleams in our curious eyes.
One day we will never be apart.
One day adventure will have no limits.
I try not to complain,
For the adventure will always be there,
Paitiently waiting for us.