#2.18.16

it’s hard to stomach how badly i fucked up when i have to say “please” and “thank you” to someone agreeing to see me when, before, all i had to do was ask “when’s the next time i’ll see you?” with the guarantee that there would be a next time. i miss her. i want to have something to show for when we see each other, whenever it might be, but i don’t know if saying “i haven’t touched k in weeks, i’ve only smoked cigarettes and the occasional joint” is anything to be proud of. she wouldn’t be proud of me.

The weight of the world sits on your shoulders but you still pretend not to feel your spine bending more and more each day  You let people push you around like a shopping cart  Your ideas thrown away before they even had a chance Before you let them become something Before you let yourself believe that this time could be different That this time will be different That this time he will not spit in your face while you try and apologize for everything you did when you were sixteen You have felt every day of your life weather your bones like a nineteen year storm But it never stopped you from holding your umbrella over other people to keep them from getting wet while you are soaked to the Bones that dissolve like sugar every night when you crawl into bed and pretend it never happened It didn't happen It couldn't have happened Because you are not like them You are different You are kind and strong You carry the world on your shoulders And still catch others when they fall

“I’m gonna knock her out” “why you always salty; youre saltier than the bosco sticks tbh and that’s saying something”