“everyone secretly hates me” says the girl with the thinks everyone secretly hates her disease

there use to be videos on youtube and instagram use to be fun and not curated at every inch. you use to be able to read full articles online without giving them your money and the internet use to be full of wonders instead of a soulless void of ads.

you ever listen to a song and all of a sudden you a get a gut wrenching feeling of nostalgia for a past life that you can’t go back to. oh well, life goes on

i’m starting to forget the way you’d say my name and i can’t seem to map out the freckles on your face anymore but sometimes, if i’m lucky enough, you come back to me in dreams and we talk about nothing just like old times

slept next to him but i dreamt of you all summer long

sometimes i’ll find an old picture in my camera roll and i’ll feel like i can’t breathe but i can smell the crisp autumn air and how those jeans felt on my skin. i remember my old car and all the bends on the road to my grandmas house and how she loved how colorful the trees were. as if it was a celebration of life right before the end. i remember how the smell of coffee would linger in my clothes after my shifts and how the sun would shine in a way that you’d only see at 4pm on a tuesday afternoon in october. before it all went bad. when they were just a five minute drive away instead of five years. when my name was still safe in their mouth. i can’t seem to catch my breath when i come across these pictures but i can’t seem to delete them either. forever frozen in time a memory of before.

we sit in the gas station parking lot watching the summer sun disappear behind the trees. we don’t talk about it. you light up my cigarette instead. this moment feels like it’ll never end but looking back, that’s all the time we had. will you look for me in the next life?

i talk to you in dreams. you still love me there

you’re the only person i really wanted to get it right with. i wanted the white picket fence and christmas mornings around the tree. i wanted to see you do our daughters hair. she’d probably get my eyes but i know she’d have your smile. if i was just a little bit older, would you have wanted the same? do you think in another life, it’s a sunday evening and we’re folding our laundry and talking about our day.

i need to go back. i can’t remember all the names i gave my toys. i’m forgetting what drawings i put up in my childhood bedroom. did my best friend ever finishing making that board that goes up to 1000? the faces of my elementary school friends and teachers are becoming a blur but i still remember how the sun felt on my face during recess during those crisp autumns. when did my mom get older? how did my little brother get so tall? we never have enough time do we? my mom has a framed picture of me in 2nd grade all dressed up for my chorus concert. it’s still 2007 and my little brother is still my little brother.

he never drove fast nor was he twice my age. he might not have spoken in poetry but he did make me laugh and his mom would always ask about me. he hated when i’d smoke but he’d still light my cigarettes. i’d tell him stories of my childhood home and the ghosts that wait for me to come back. i’d show him all my best hiding spots that only those i really loved knew about. he had so much love in his heart that i decided to make it my home. but i guess somewhere along the line he decided he didn’t want to know me anymore. i think he got tired of cleaning the blood off my knees. in his mind, i was some tragedy waiting to be fixed, but this type of sadness can never be fixed. once you’re the sad girl, you don’t get to be anything else. so now he makes some other girl with eyes as brown as mine laugh. she isn’t a tragic character. she never gets scraped up knees or tastes like smoke. she’s the one who comes with a nice cookie cutter ending. the one that plays at the end of a hallmark movie. but sometimes he’ll look at his passenger seat and remember that one summer when my laugh was his favorite sound in the whole world