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.