Category Archives: Uncategorized

Don’t you hate those little shit kids who are ungrateful for what they have. They cry and scream and cry some more. They’re so freaking annoying. I’m just in the grocery store trying to get some noodles and sauce to make spaghetti when all of a sudden I hear some whiny, ear splitting, obnoxious brat crying louder than any siren could. And his poor pathetic mother pleading as if this baby has control of her, no, the sad part is that it DOES have control of her. She tells it “no” yet after a few minutes of humiliation she gives in and hopes everyone around stops staring. And no matter how nice she is and how much she tries to compromise that kid is just too curious of how much it can get away with. It wants and wants and gets and gets. It’s never satisfied. That goddamn child.

My life is fickle, fragile, and weak.

I wonder if I’ve learned enough to be let go.

I wonder if I’ll be spared to stay here.

I wonder what it’s like to die.

Would I become a beautiful shining light 

Or would I be gone in darkness not even conscious. 

What would be the point of my life if I came here to wither for ten years and die.

Was I just put here for someone to grieve? 

Are my aspirations and dreams not good enough?

Do they mean nothing?

Nights praying, thanking my god for giving me my five senses

Only for them to be striped away.

Day

By

Day

Will my body be bones

My eyes a foggy haze

My own being and personality dripping out of me 

Left only in your memory. 

I don’t want to be a carcass 

I don’t want to be bathed in tears

To lose the ability to walk and speak

No more dancing

Or loud singing in the car

Skipping down roads laughing like we’re drunk when really we’re just tired kids. 

No more opinions said. 

No jokes.

I’d be gone.

A bed my new home 

Taken care of by people I don’t know.

My future, the one promised since I was young 

A family, my own house, kids, struggles of being a parent,

Aging into an old woman who accepts life as it is. 

I don’t accept this life

Please god don’t take me away

I’m not ready

Not in this way

I’ve grown up watching someone die

Don’t let that be me

All because of some stupid 

DISEASE. 

…

I hate it,

I hate everything. 

I hate how I don’t mess around like everyone else and have fun.

I hate that people don’t know what I want. I hate how I have to say it.

I hate how I have to be mature thinking about both sides and never getting into a fight. 

I hate that I’m sad cause I feel I don’t deserve it. 

I hate when I’m lonely because my arms are ice cold around me compared to yours. 

I hate that I don’t have therapy and that my dad denied me it. 

I hate that I can’t wear what I want or else I’m a disappointment. 

I hate I suck at everything even if that’s not true. 

I hate I always fail

I hate that it’s never enough,

I hate that my moms gone and  I can’t talk about it without people feeling awkward, 

I hate that I struggle with my emotions not knowing how to express myself or even what I’m feeling. 

I hate that I’m always overthinking. 

I hate that I procrastinate but don’t know how to stop. 

I hate that I don’t work hard enough,

I hate that I’m never satisfied no matter how hard I try. My tears go unnoticed and feel worthless like they don’t matter at all. 

I hate that I love my parents because everyone else does not and saying that mine are great feels like I’m showing off. 

I hate school and how hard I try to be good at it yet always ignoring it. 

I hate that no one listens, I hate that no one cares

I hate I can’t say anything, 

I hate that I cry silently, 

I hate I’m always confused

I hate I’m always stressed, 

I hate I’m insecure, 

I hate myself and I hate that I do.

Isn’t she such a pretty girl

Tan skin, tight waist, and long hair that twirls.

Eyes are gorgeous chocolate brown 

A lovely new woman 

Chest now hanging down. 

Years she lived a life so free 

Jumping and skipping in a playground with glee. 

One drop of blood skimming down her leg

She is a woman and the girl is dead. 

Suddenly tummies that show in the sun 

Don’t spread laughter, don’t spread fun.

Instead she is seen as quite the tease 

And don’t you dare wear skirts above the knees.

Summer once fun is now just a show

A tank top with thin straps 

Sends chills down your back as every old man looks you up and down.

What happened to life? 

What happened to me?

Why are there warnings for my body changing?

Life was so simple 

Life was so fun

Now I spend hours making sure I’m not shunned.

Media says to always have fun

Don’t conform 

Don’t run.

Every new trend shows a little more skin

And I can’t help but want to join in.

But the second you leave that houses door

You suddenly feel so insecure.

Everyone’s staring

Everyones judging

And you know exactly what they’re saying.

In their minds

In their eyes

You read it so clear

Suddenly wishing to disappear.

Arms wrapped tightly across your chest 

Your hands reach your jackets edge 

Pull it closer 

Zip it up

Cause everyone knows 

You’re such a slut.

Sometimes I’m quiet. 

I don’t really know why 

Sometimes it’s because I’m sad 

It feels like I want to cry. 

No one needs to know the reason or that it’s even felt 

So why on earth would I be loud?

Sometimes it’s because I’m relaxed. 

I feel calm, slow, and unwound. 

My eyes droop down, shoulders loose, inside I feel peaceful, acting aloof. 

Why would I be loud when I’m ready to snooze? 

Sometimes it’s because I don’t feel like talking at all. 

Talking seems so energetic and why bother when you’re not listening to my call,

If you really want to know then hear my mumbles and decipher them like a puzzle. 

Sometimes I don’t notice it.

I’m just quiet all of sudden.

People don’t hear me.

Sometimes I think they’re just ignoring me.

I stare them down but they don’t look back. 

Answer me won’t you? I can’t say it again. 

No matter how small or unimportant 

At least let me know you heard it.

I’m trying you see, trying so hard 

Even when I’m tired, crying, or bored.

Don’t make me repeat it seems such a nuisance 

I hate this short tension just 

Open your ears.

Look in my eyes.

And finally give me your attention.

Isn’t it fascinating how you’re mind decides to remember things? Specific things, things you didn’t even mean to remember but your brain picked out for some reason. That’s you, that’s always been you. From the day I saw you for some reason my brain decided not to let my eyes move anywhere else. I was stuck on you without even knowing your name. You were a small memory hidden in my brain. One that sparked anytime I saw you. Walk into class, sit down, and sometimes I’d just analyze you. It wasn’t every class nor frequent just a small notice lingering in my head. Yet that memory blocked out any rude thing you could say about me the first time we spoke. It didn’t matter if you thought I was weird because getting to actually know you was an excitement severe enough to have my focus only on getting to know you. My small memory turned into a friend. Suddenly a dumb health class was exciting to go to because I knew I was gonna have a good time laughing with you. Seeing you in any class afterwards was always enlightening. Sitting idly by watching you love others was never heart breaking only saddening. My small memory was being multiplied in someone else’s head over and over again while I only had one class. Years and years I wait and I wait. The only boy who I’d ever date. Blond and beautiful with eyes that say more than his words, finally I have him locked in my arms.

Shy quiet girl,

Come out.

Come out.

Shy quiet girl,

Don’t pout.

Don’t pout.

Shy quiet girl,

Speak up.

Speak up.

No one likes a freak

Murmuring in a dump.

Shy quiet girl you dress so weird.

Too bland, too baggy, too much black, dress fitting.

Shy quiet girl,

So ugly.

So ugly.

Shy quiet girl show off your body.

Don’t be afraid, come dancing, come clubbing.

Shy quiet girl don’t run to your mommy.

Shy quiet girl,

Gets touched .

Gets drugged.

Don’t blame me you dress like a slut.

Shy quiet girl crying in an ally

Shy quiet girl,

Don’t trust

Anybody.

I sit here,

on a bed, in a room so quiet I can hear air moving around like static. No music being shared on my phone, beats bouncing off the walls. No voices chatting, laughing, and saying goodnight. No boy blabbing on and on about some musician I don’t know. No videos shared. No posts seen. I won’t wake up to my phone feeling like fire and someone’s snores echoing throughout the room. No good morning will be heard from a soft groggy voice just waking up. Instead I am left with nothing but a room.

In this room

I lay with a stuffed animal. He is big, round, soft, and blue with teal lines supposing to mimic fur. I hold him close and curl around his round shape, my arms worn around him. I’m okay here, everything’s fine. The soft light from my lamp combined with my heavy blanket starts to burn my face leaving a faint blush scattered on my cheeks. The want for sleep has my eyes trying to drag themselves off my face. Streaks still drying from face, my inside feels hollow but my breathing is the most relaxed it’s ever been. I’ve lost my appetite as if I don’t deserve to eat or it’s become a burden I don’t deserve to take part in. I don’t want to do anything, just sit here until the feeling stops.

Alone.

I’m alone. My electronics aren’t even worth the distraction. Every video, post, or story is greyed out into mush. I’m surrounded by faces on plush bodies all staring at me with smiles yet none can speak a word to me. In here I’m small bullied by silence. Even though I could make the biggest noise and take control of the room I feel defeated. It’s not worth it. I’m a nuisance, weak, nothing. The room stays silent but my mind makes noise

Forever.

A lot of people call me immature. They say that because I’m not too great at school. I socialize and just don’t stop talking. I can be very distracting in ways not helpful and for some not wanted when the teacher looks over our way. I’m shameless and could care less but others not so much I suppose. I’m loud. I laugh loud, talk loud, and make dumb noises loud. Because of it all I don’t pay attention too much. I usually end up lost in assignments and worry about tests cause most of the time I was just chatting away. 

Some call me immature because I like kid things. I still love stuffed animals. I only really watch cartoons because they’re short and sweet. I love video games but only play nintendo. Animal crossing is my jam and mario games are always welcome. I still watch the pokemon cartoon even though it’s been years. I absolutely adore Hello kitty. And  I’m excited about the second sonic movie coming out. I even made my boyfriend promise he’d come with me. 

For others it’s my gestures and ways of mannerism. I do random dances in public, get excited over the smallest things, and take small wins to my ego. 

But you know I like those things and act that way because I didn’t appreciate it as a child. When I was younger I never let myself be a kid. I wanted so badly to grow up. I never wanted an adult to talk to me like a five year old even when I was one. I wanted to do things right, go to school, and be successful. If I failed I was worthless. I needed to be helpful. But that kind of thinking only led me astray. I overthought every little thing. Suddenly I couldn’t figure anything out. I had made a bar so high for myself I felt like I could never achieve anything. I was so young yet I was more stressed then I have ever been in my life. I wanted so badly to be something important I ended up driving myself insane, crying every day in my classroom. All I wanted was to be good enough, but that was something I was never going to allow myself. In my eyes I would never be good enough because I was never perfect. 

I still struggle with these thoughts shadowing behind my brain but I’ve gotten so much better. I’m not perfect but at least I’ve learned to enjoy myself. I remember in middle school I was dressing like a grade schooler one day and a 40 year old business lady the next. Now I wear what I want no matter how ridiculous some may think it looks because you can get away with that as a teen. There will be plenty of time for me to look elegant when I’m older. Right now I just want to enjoy what I have. So maybe talking all the time isn’t a great thing but at least I’m finally speaking. People know my name, I’m not just the “weird girl”. I’m a friend to people who enjoy my company. I make people laugh. And sure I still watch cartoons but they’re easy to multitask while watching. They’re not a time commitment like the serious shows. Cartoons are comforting, easy, and loveable. It’s the same with video games. I like things that de stress. You can’t blame me for that. 

So you might call me immature but I’m doing my best to figure things out. Adults sure seem to think I’m mature so maybe that’s a start. I’ll figure things out but for now just trust me. 

I’ll find a balance.

What just happened? My breath is so uneven, clothes scattered about, my hair is so messy and ratted. Tears? I feel tears on my face. As I reach up to wipe them my hand is shaking. Shaking, why am I shaking? Why do I hurt? Why is the room spinning? I can’t hear anything. Ringing, beating, breathing, that’s all that’s entering my ears. Touch, what do I feel? Sheets, my sheets. They’re messy, not neat how I left them. Sight, what do I see? Tell me why I feel so empty. Show me why my heart is black right now. I see a dent in my wall. I see blood dripping from my nose, and I see…

Him.

A man with silver rings and skin pale dressing himself back up in his clothes. His hair is messy, body sweaty, and his fists are covered with my blood. It looks as if he was just painting a room and I suppose he had except I was his paint. He turns his head towards me. His face, I know his face. I can feel every cell in my body shake, then burn, I feel burning. My mind searches for what I already know yet can’t comprehend. 

He’s my boyfriend. 

And he just stole my body. 

I had invited him in as usual to chat a bit before he needed to leave. But he didn’t leave. I told him to, I said it was getting late and he needed to head back soon since we both had work in the morning. But he didn’t leave. Instead he came closer to me. I didn’t mind at first, we had kissed before. But soon he got handsy, more than I liked. He started trying to undress me. I told him to stop. He didn’t listen. I told him it’s my body, it’s mine, he can’t touch it. But he did. And he kept touching it even when I cried, and when I hit him he hit me back. He kept hitting me, he was crazy, an animal. He hit me so I’d stop screaming. He hit so hard I passed out. All consciousness had left me but the pain I felt when I awoke, the soreness. I know what he did to me. I know what he stole. 

“You, how dare you.”

My voice sounded like a cat scratching the insides of my throat. I could taste the blood, feel my heart pounding faster and faster, and my mind was cutting every moral I had. My sympathy leaked out my eyes. The blood slipping off me held all my love fastly fading into hate stained on my skin. How could he?

Bastard.

Bastard.

Bastard. 

“This is my body…”

My words came out a murmur this time. He finally looked over at me. The only words he had to spare 

“C’mon it was about time I got some, it’s only fair after all the crap I buy you.” 

Fair? 

His explanation is that it was fair? 

I could feel myself laugh a hard breathy laugh yet the only thing I heard was myself opening the drawer next to my bed, drawing my gun, and the three shots that echoed in my apartment. 

I felt no guilt. 

I felt no sadness. 

He deserved it. 

The bastard deserved it. 

It’s my body. 

It’s my body I cried out as I sank into my tears flooding the carpet. The gun laid by my side and his body across the room. Looking in his eyes I couldn’t believe I had ever loved such a vial repulsing creature. 

“You got what you deserved”