The Drunk Apology

Dear Mom,

I miss you. Every card I titled “to the best mom ever” still holds the truth. I’m sorry for the burden that I’ve become. I’m sorry for shutting you out when I know you are only trying to help. The silence building between us is my desperate plea for your attention, for you to actually listen to me. I’m screaming at you through the coughing, the wheezing, and the silent gasps for air. This sickness has taken over me but I still love you.

Dear Family,

I miss you. I’m sorry for holding grudges. I’m sorry I forgot to write. I’m sorry I shut you out when I really just wanted someone to talk to.

Dear Friends,

I miss you. I’m sorry for pressing ignore when I really wanted to press answer. I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. I’m sorry I’ve missed out on the basketball games, the random parties, and the endless memories that will later become the stories you tell your grand kids. I’m sorry for shutting you out when I desperately wanted you to understand.

Dear teacher(s),

I miss your class. I miss the lectures, the sometimes funny jokes, and the cute boy who sat next to me in class. I miss learning, reading, and leaving class with a new perspective. This is the first year I’ve loved all my classes and it’s all because of you. I just wish I could be there to show you how much class means to me.

Dear Doctor(s),

I still see you every day so I can’t say that I miss you. I’m sorry for wincing as you poke and prick at my skin but I’m tired of feeling like a raggedy anne doll. I’m sick of the alcohol swabs, the blood tests, and the smell of disinfectant.  I’m sick of the endless diagnoses of names I can’t even pronounce.  I’m sorry for being so negative. I know you’re just trying to help but I just want someone to tell me the truth.

Dear God,

I miss you. I’m sorry for the curse words, skipping church, and my bitter attitude. I’m sorry for asking for the same thing every night. I’m sorry for 11-28-13, it won’t happen again.

Dear old me,

I miss you and I think everyone else does too. I hate looking through old photographs and seeing the happy girl in skinny jeans. I miss your laugh, your smile, and your innocence. I miss the adventurous brunette with dreams and a future. I’m sorry I shut you out too.

Dear Lyme's Disease,

Screw you.

90's Kid

In three years from when we graduate it will be the last graduating class to “technically” be born in the 90’s. In just three short years it will be the last generation to grow up on TV shows like Hey Arnold, Fresh Prince of Bell Air, Even Stevens, Saved by the Bell, and Boy meets World. It will be the last generation whose Trix cereal growing up was shaped like fruits and flowers, not spheres. It will be the last generation who cried when their tamagotchi died, who owned a cassette/CD player, and still answered their home phone.  It will be the last generation to understand the difference between Backstreet Boys and One Direction. It will be the last generation who will know that The Little Vampire came before Twilight, that the Goonies might be the best movie of all time, and that Aaron Carter was the Justin Bieber of the 90’s.

Their Disney channel will consist of shows like A.N.T farm, Dog with a Blog, and Shake it up, while ours consisted with shows like Even Stevens, Lizzie McGuire, and Kim Possible. You'd wake up every Saturday to watch cartoons like Power Rangers, Pokémon, and the Flintstones. The generations to come will never understand the importance of the movie SPACE JAM.

Baby bottle pops, bazooka bubble gum, and gushers will be stale. Bubble gum machines, hop scotch, and play dough will seem childish. Half time snacks will no longer consist of kool-aid and a ding dong. They’ll probably try and feed you fruit or something dumb like that since half the nation is obese these days.(exaggeration)

In just three years from when we graduate it will be the last graduating class to “technically” be born in the 90’s, and soon after that we’ll catch ourselves starting all our sentences with “When I was your age…”

Memories will haunt you like a ghost

(and I will try to love you - Haunt, Bastille)

How to annoy your mother

1. Follow her around everywhere.
2. Answer all her questions saying "why?"
3. MOO when she say's your name.
4. Pretend you have amnesia
5. Have 20 imaginary friends that you talk to all the time.
6. Say everything backwards.
7. Try to climb the wall.
8. Go into her room at 4 am and say "Good morning Sunshine." :)
9. Yell "LIAR" at everything she say's.
10. Go into the room she's in and switch the light on and off for a while and yell "Oh, I get it."
11. Tap on her door all night saying "Help me asdgkldft!"
12. When watching T.V with her talk to the commercial guy about your problems.
13. Say that wearing clothes is against your religion.

stuck in a box

Do you ever feel like you’re just watching?

Watching the world go by. Watching the sunrise and the sunset. Watching the seasons change. Watching people live their lives while you just stare, emotionless, as though you don’t even exist.

It’s like I’m stuck behind glass SCREAMING and no one seems to hear me but they can see me just sitting there trapped in my little glass box, so I just sit there and watch.

I watch as my friends embark on new adventures. I watch as they begin to take risks in following their dreams. I watch as they enter the beginning stages of having more than a crush. I watch as they enter the idea of falling in love at seventeen. I watch as they grow closer and closer with someone else while they grow further and further away from me. 

I’m the ghost of the girl I used to be. I’m beating away at these walls in hopes that the rubble will prove to me that I exist. It feels like the last supporting beam in my house just collapsed and I’m stuck under all the debris unable to breathe or collect the broken pieces.

I feel like a piece of paper that can’t move past the fact that it can never go back to being a tree.

I’m watching T.V seeing them live their dreams and wondering what that must feel like?

I have dreams and ideas but reality seems to always be getting in the way, telling me there’s no way, so I’m just stuck in a daydream of how this is all supposed to be.

Hold On Pain Ends

"hope is all we have"

Best invention ever

I think I think too much

I’m thinking about you while sitting on my roof and staring at the moon... wondering if you even exists.

I don’t think you do? Because if you did I’d be thinking about you a lot more than I already do.

I’d be thinking about you like chains think about rust.  Like pizza thinks about crust. Like bookshelves think about dust.

I’d be thinking about you like cereal thinks about spoons. Like roses think about thorns. Like marriage thinks about divorce.

I’d be thinking about you like the alphabet thinks about soup. Like peanuts think about butter. Like Leonardo DiCaprio thinks about… water.

I’d be thinking about you like Edward thinks about Bella. Like prince charming thinks about Cinderella. Like creative writing thinks about… Devastated Daisy.

I’d be thinking about you like finger nails think about polish. Like vanilla thinks about chocolate. Like my cell phone charger thinks about getting plugged into a socket.

I’d be thinking about you like dandruff thinks about shampoo. Like how the kid sitting next to me in class needs shampoo and probably some conditioner too.

I’d be thinking about you like coughing thinks about syrup. Like cowboys think about stirrups.  Like that one girl who thought her car was “stolen” but really she just forgot where she parked it…. (Idk what that has to do with thinking about you)

I’d be thinking about you like coffee thinks about Starbucks. Like hipsters think about Starbucks. Like yoga pants, I phones, and UGG boots think about Starbucks.

I’d be thinking about you like books think about titles. Like my laundry thinks about dirty clothes piles. Like homosexuals think about… stereotypes.

I’d be thinking about you like Plato thinks about Socrates and philosophies that I’m still trying to make sense of.

I think I would think about thinking about you.

Because when I actually think about you the sun misses the moon and the stars forget how to make constellations.

Idk anymore

To Do List

1. Play with fairies

2. Grow angel wings

3. Braid the hair of a mermaid

4. Fly to the moon

5. Ride a unicorn

6. Fall in love

A dreamer that's what she was

I still remember reading the words that plucked at the sore parts of my heart, tearing off raw bites of sadness. How could she be so selfish?
 How pathetic that she actually thought she could go through with it and leave a note.
 I couldn’t relate to the reality of actually wanting to die until a certain age when I caught myself cutting into lined paper with red ink. The pen digging at my hand until my calluses grew tired from exposure.

How pathetic that I actually thought I could go through with it too, but soon the sun will swallow the only earth we’ll ever have and maybe then the pain will stop. 

They say that for every birth 14 people have already died.

They say that for the 7 billion people alive, 98 billion people have already died.

How many of the 98 billion souls are still remembered and how many have become another speck of dust lying on the book shelf with nothing left but to be wiped away by a piece of cloth.

And to think you were almost an added collection of dust,

But you don’t need Jesus until your there.

Until you realize your entire existence was a waste, but maybe that’s not the point, because heroes leave scars on our hearts. 

She was a hero but now she’s a scar and I tried to taste the stars we bottled up but I threw them away and tried to focus on my thoughts. 
“My thoughts are stars I can’t fathom into constellations.”  

I sat on the swings waiting for you while the wind blew and the branching shadows rearranged themselves on my skin. You never came that day… and that’s when I knew.

I ran down the street dreading the next few steps that lead to your front door.
 My hands trembled as I tried to unlock the door. Forcing myself to call your name I saw you lying on your bed. 

Your body stretched across the bed sheets that were now smothered in red stains. The only thing in your hand was an empty bottle and a shitty note.

I never knew death personally until it came calling for you… lucky for me there was no answer.  

The side effect of dying is begging for your life.

They say suicide has a domino effect, but I keep wobbling back and forth wondering which way I’m going to fall.

Football games, movies, and hanging out with friends suddenly tasted bitter coming out of my mouth. I can’t seem to find the girl who used to climb trees and swing on swings.  
 I think part of her died when I found you that day.

I told you heroes leave scars. 

Out of the 7 billion people alive today if we each remembered 14 lives maybe the 98 billion people who died wouldn’t feel like such a waste, because maybe dying would finally feel okay.

I tell myself I won’t cry but that moment has traced its way into my blood stream cutting through my veins like kite strings,

but I’m not afraid of scissors because I don’t believe in soul mates.

The truth is my kite flew away the day I saw my mom cry and I couldn’t feel a thing.

Numbness: the emotion I feel when I kiss or see my mom cry.

But the worst part of it all is that when I found you lying on your bed the kitchen sink was still on.