Fake

I'm weird. 

I never say the right thing and I talk to fast and loud and people don't like me. 

I spend too much time thinking about dying and how much I can poison my body before it happens. 

I'm the unwanted one. 

The one people don't want to bother with. 

Maybe I'm just different. Maybe being the only teenage girl that seems to think caring about others feelings is an important part of being Christ like turns people off to me. 

I want to scream at them all the time. 

I would've done anything for you. 

I broke up with him for you.

You never stuck up for me. 

You never tried to be honest with me.

You lied to me over and over and said you loved me over and over and I believed it but I'm done. 

I'll never be able to see you the same again. 

I'll never be able forgive you. 

And If I die...

Don't come to the funeral. 

Wouldn't want you to waste anymore fake tears. 

The sin that doesn't count

I thought after I graduated it wouldn't hurt anymore.

I thought that high school pressured you into having friends and that after it was over I wouldn't feel bad about not having any anymore. 

But I was wrong. 

It hurts just as bad. 

Making a group message with everyone in the old one except me

Telling me you'll come over in the morning but never showing up. 

I wonder if God cares about bad friends. 

I wonder if he looks at teenage girls who broke their friends hearts and judges them.

Or if he doesn't care. 

Just like everyone else. 

Or if he doesn't count it. 

Because they never considered themselves my friends in the first place. 

Last Words

Missing you comes in waves and right now I'm drowning. Caught in a rip tide and the salt burns. 

My pain density must be greater than everyone else's because they all seem to be floating while I just sink down deeper.

And the shards of my broken heart ripped through my life jacket along time ago. 

My heart string are too weak to be tied back together and forget glue. 

The tears burn right through it. 

I see you in my dreams. Sometimes alive and sometimes dead depending on what's going through my head. 

They don't prepare you for grief in school they only teach you math

Math I use to add up the number of birthdays you'll miss, multiplied by the tears that I'll cry every night for for the rest of my life, divided by the number of times I wished my heart would stop beating, all over every single time I'll throw my graduation cap in the air you won't be there to see it. 

They teach us how to fight off death but never how to go on living. 

There's a massive hole in my chest, cut in the shape of your hand that I'll never hold again. 

When I close my eyes all I can see is the way mom's looked, filled with tears, when she told me you were gone. 

Every one of my nerve endings is exposed and every time someone says the word dad they get a little bit rawer.  

I wonder if you knew it would hurt this bad I wonder if you cared. 

I throw up so much at night the only thing that seems to come out anymore is pieces of my soul. 

I lost ten pounds in the months after you died and every single one of them came from my heart. 

Every day since you died I've thought of last words and everyday since I've regretted mine but this time I won't. 

I love you dad. 

And I'll miss you forever. 

Happy Birthday Mom

My heart aches. All the time it does. It has ever since that day. 

But some days it does more than others. 

Like today. My moms birthday. 

All the days that used to be happy are sad now. 

How do three teenage girls live up to the birthdays her husband used to give her?

She doesn't expect anything from us but still we try to give her everything. 

Because she is our everything. 

We want her to be happy more than I ever thought we could. 

So we try. 

We put all our money into trying to get good presents and make dinner and try to make it special. 

But still it's not the same. 

We can see the gaping hole of his absence in everything but especially her birthday. 

I can feel his absence in the gaping whole in my heart. 

It's supposed to be a great day but it just hurts now because all I can see is the greatness it used to be. 

It kills my sisters too. My sister cries about how she knows my mom will never be as happy. 

Tonight after presents and cake we all were walking to our beds and my sister said to my mom "I hope you have a great 42nd year"

And my mom said the words we were all thinking.

"It can't get any worse"

It can't get any worse. 

I think that's the moment when my heart broke. 

Happy birthday mom. 

If You Really Knew Me

The Water

It comes in waves. 

The pain the loneliness the self loathing. 

But lately... 

Lately it's a tsunami. 

That I'm constantly drowning in. 

The cold water tearing at my skin. 

The salt burning my throat. 

The power of the current pulling me down deeper and darker every minute. 

It gets stronger and stronger. 

My tears raise the water even higher. 

Why can't I swim why does no one pull me out why does no one try to rescue me. 

Why does no one see me. 

They see me. The seem me on the verge of being caught up in the water forever. 

And they do nothing. 

And I drown.

Just Pain

Life and Death. 

I've felt them both.

And I've decided

At this point

It doesn't matter. 

They're both just pain. 

Just pain 

In different ways. 

Turn Out Like Him

One morning I woke up to screaming. I ran upstairs. Our house was mostly empty from the move. Little did I know it had just gotten emptier. 

I'll never forget my moms face that morning. It's impossible to forget. I didn't even have to ask what happened because I'd never seen anyone make that face before. I'd never seen someone's face look that broke. It was obvious what happened. That face. 

That morning changed everything. He changed everything. So you know wanna know what I'm scared of? I'm scared of everything. He made me scared of everything. 

I'm scared that I'll be this sad forever. 

I'm scared that I'll have to listen to my sister cry in her sleep forever. 

I'm scared that my mom will never go back to normal. 

I'm scared that all my friends wish I was dead.

I'm scared no one will ever want to marry me because I'm too broken. 

I'm scared that the doctor won't give me anymore of the drugs I'm addicted too, I'm scared that my mom will get remarried and that she won't, I'm scared I'll never believe in God again, I'm my kids won't love me, I'm scared I'll have these night mares forever I'm scared I won't graduate, I'm scared one day getting out of bed will be impossible. 

But most of all I'm scared I'll turn out like him. 

I'm scared one day my sister will wake up to screams and run up stairs and see my mom face and know what happened without even asking. 

Not because she's never seen that face before....

But because she has. 

Needing Love

I'm running out of illnesses to fake to get out of school. 

Tricking my mom that I'm sick so I don't have to tell her that my heads just too dark and cloudy today. 

Lately that's everyday. 

I can't go into that big building full of bodies but empty of love. 

Maybe just empty of love for me. 

Avoiding that people that don't know me and the people that wish they didn't know me. 

I can tell you that I've never felt this alone in my life. Maybe this is a trial that I've made own but I need it to end. I need love again. 

Please just tell me you love me 

PLEASE JUST TELL ME YOU LOVE ME

You can't understand how much it hurts to feel like this. How much it hurts to fell like you're the only one in the world on your own side. I need someone on my side. 

Don't you know how much I'm suffering? And don't you know how much of that you could alleviate with just a few nice words. With just a Starbucks. Or a hug. Just something. 

I wish people could see the inside of me. Maybe they'd run away. I'd probably run away too. But maybe they'd realize how that I can be helped. That I can be held together.

I've never felt desperate like this before. Desperate for friends. For someone to talk to. For someone to care. I just need a hug. I just need love. 

I know I'm difficult. But please. 

Please. 

Don't give up on me. 

A Little Too Sensitive

I feel like I was born missing a layer of skin

Because every part of me is a little too sensitive. 

It's like all my nerves are exposed so everything hurts way more than it should

People tell me I'm dramatic but I'm not dramatic this really feels like the end of the world. 

It hurts that bad. 

My friends think I'm crazy I know they do but the thing is I think I'm crazy too. 

I need love more than any other human being ever has. 

In eight grade I had a friend that hugged me and told me she loved me twice a day and maybe that's why my expectations are too high because I saw how good it felt to feel important. 

Everything hurts me double. 

I throw up at night because all the pain is too toxic for my body to handle, and it doesn't know how else to get rid of it. 

I need a sign on it that says CAUTION: fragile. Handle with care. 

I just need you to care. 

I lay in bed every night and wonder if this is how I was meant to be. 

Broken in every sense of the word. Hurting to much to see anything else. 

It hurts so bad that I'm positive I'm human.

But I wish I wasn't. 

Best Friend I've Ever Had

Alcohol is the best friend I've ever had. 

It's always there no matter what. 

It makes you feel warm and calm. 

It never gets mad at you.  

When you go on vacation it always wants you to come back. 

In fact it practically begs you to come back

If you ask it to it'll show up for you. 

There's no lying involved in alcohol. 

Just you and the bottle. And it always tells you the truth. 

I tried to stop for you. 

Tried to kick the habit. 

But alcohol showed up today. 

And you didn't. 

You said you would but you didn't. 

So I'll sink down into the abyss. 

Deeper

Darker

Faster

Calmer

Drunker

Warmer 

Black

Broken Crayons

I've tried a million times to write about my childhood. And all I can really say about it is this. 

When I was 6 years old I was at my cabin with my family. I was crying. 

My mom came upstairs to ask me what was wrong and I told her that I was scared that when I got older my life would be hard because my childhood had been so great. 

My mom told me that that isn't how it worked. 

She was wrong. 

And I was right. 

If crayons are what we used to represent our childhood happiness...

Then all my crayons are broken. 

What I should've said.

I said all the bad things.

Because in the heat of the moment that's what we do.

Sometimes all we can see is the bad.

But I didn't want to hurt you.

I should've told you the good things too. 

I should've told you that whenever you're happy it makes me happy too. 

When you read me letters from that boy on a mission I've never met I should be bored but I'm not. I love it because you love it and that makes me happy

You're the only person I can tell everything too. I know I can trust you the most. When good things happen and when bad things happen I want to tell you. 

Sometimes when I want to do something bad I think of how you'd be disappointed. And how you actually care. And how you've made me see that choosing the right is better. 

Even when I'm sick of cafe rio and you wanna go I still wanna go. Just cause it's fun with you.

...okay and I'll never be sick of cafe rio. 

You're one of the only people I'd stick up for and defend through anything. Because I just believe in you. 

Sometimes I wanna die and sometimes you're the only one that can convince me other wise because you just have this hopefulness in you. 

I would do anything for you. Even if was the middle of the night I would be there for you. 

I rarely pray. I hate it. It's hard and I cry. But every time I do pray I thank God for you in my life. Every time. 

And I think that maybe that's the only thing that can really say how much you mean to me. 

Because I don't pray.

But I pray for you. 

Things I Lost

Things that I lost in the move:

Mint green bikini

Navy Cali hat

Old Black stilettos

Red Camp Sweatshirt

My friends

My heart

My happiness

I'll be there.

When the walls start to crumble and you're about to be crushed by falling bricks, I'll protect you. 

When you get too cold and tired from hiking through life's cold deep snow, I'll drag you out when you beg to left behind. 

When the when the debris from the ashes of your broken soul fill your lungs, I'll breathe for you. 

When you're heart shatters, I'll glue all the pieces back together. 

When your feet hurt too bad to keep walking, I'll carry you though the path of life. 

I'll be there. 

Learning

People always asked me what I've learned. 

That's what happens when you go through something like that. 

And I mean something truly awful that people don't even like to say out loud. 

Suddenly everyone wants to know what you've learned. How you go on. 

In church when we talk about trials they ask me to share. 

They can't ask anyone else talk about trials when I'm in the room I guess. 

What I want to tell them is that I learned how to take a shower when your heart hurts so much you can barely stand. 

I learned how to make it through an hour long class period and wait to cry until I could hide in the bathroom between classes. 

I learned how to wear baggy clothes to hide the ten pounds I lost from pure sadness. 

I learned how to spend the entire night throwing up and screaming from my night mares and then get up the next morning at 6:30 because somehow I'm still expected to come to school. 

I learned how to avoid eye contact with anyone and everyone so no one would talk to me because I was scared of what would come out of my mouth.

I learned how to sleep as much as possible during the day because the monsters inside me where twice as loud at night.  

But the thing I learned the most?

I learned that as impossibly hard as you imagine it to be...

It's harder. 

I love you

I wish I'd said anything else that night. 

I wish I'd told you that I never want to live without you.

I wish I'd told you that you're the most important part of my life. 

I wish I'd told you that there's nothing I can't forgive you for. 

I wish I'd told you that all the pain you'd caused me is nothing compared to the pain of having you gone.

I wish I told you that I need you to be here. 

But I didn't. I didn't tell you any of that. 

I wish I'd told you that I love you. 

I didn't say it

But I felt it...

And I hope you felt it too. 

Drunk

I saw and knew a lot of those things in those moments. 

The ones where the outsides to blurry so all you see is what's in your head. 

I saw boys. Lots of them. Somehow they always ended up on top of me. 

I saw things dimmed down. Light things seemed dark and dark things seemed darker. 

I saw the ceiling and the floor and I'm not sure which one I was on. 

I saw the puke and the red and the toilet and my hair. 

I thought about how low I could get. The lowest times of my life. 

I thought about how many times I'd been on the bathroom floor. And how many times I'd be back. 

I thought about graves and bullets through the head and moms with cancer. 

I thought about the pills and the doctors and how it's never enough. 

I thought about the loneliness and the guilt and regret. The pain and the embarrassment and how this is all I'll ever be. 

But you wanna know the last thing I thought about, right before I close my eyes? 

You. 

Hats

We wear hats to cover things up. 

Greasy hair, forehead zit, bad dye job. 

We have other hats too though. 

Hats we use to cover up the things we're even more ashamed of. 

We wear the funny hat, to cover up the fact that we're scared no one could ever take our thoughts seriously. 

We wear the tired hat, to get out of confessing you really haven't smiled for days, and aren't sure if you know how anymore. 

We wear the sick hat to get out of school, so you don't have to spend another lunch eating alone. 

And then there's the mean hat, used to force people not to focus on our own insecurities.

The angry hat, the one we use on our friends to cover up the fact that we're just hurt. 

And a hundred more. 

Everything about these hats are just fake. Used to cover up the things we find the worst in ourselves. 

But the thing about hats is, they don't last forever. They wear out, break at the seams. 

So do yourself a favor now. 

Just take it off. 

Introduction

If I were to sit down and tell you about me, I'd probably tell you the easy stuff. My name and age and what I do for fun. 

You know, the things people want to hear. 

But what I would want to tell you?

I'd tell you that sometimes my heart hurts so much I want to rip it out of my chest with my own little hands. 

I'd tell you that when my family leaves me home alone I cry, because I'm scared they're never coming back. 

I'd tell you that there's so much darkness inside me now that I see everything in gray. 

I'd tell you how I'm so empty inside I'm about to explode. 

I'd tell you how I don't want to have to remember but I'm scared to forget.

I'd tell you that no matter how many people surround me all I feel is alone.

But I can't tell you that.

So I'll tell you my favorite color and what I want to be when I grow up. 

At least for now.