My self harm scars are fading and somehow I want more.

Sometimes when you touch me unexpectedly, my heart punches me and the flashbacks start.

I don't snort adderall for schoolwork, I do it so that the demons of sleep and bad dreams will shut the **** up.

When I was a little girl, I used to pinch myself on my rib cage when I got upset. I guess I started early.

I hate your ****** hair because it reminds me of my ******'s.

I'm turning into my mother.

This house is burning straight to the ground
And all you can think about
Is that you're "cold now that all the sweaters are destroyed"
"But the embers look beautiful floating by my face."
I guess you took a few too many pills,
And I didn't take quite enough.
It wasn't the flames of justice that engulfed our house.
But it doesn't really matter.
Because that house was not a home.
A home is where I live with someone I love.
So that house was not a home.
Because I didn't love you.
I loved your hips and you ****.
I ****** you and you made me drinks when I got back from work.
I never loved you.
I started the ******* fire to get a rise out of you.
You still don't care.
At least I made you ******* shiver a little.
Like that counts for ****.

My day wasn't unsuccessful.
I got what done what I needed to get done.
I think the same song has been on repeat all afternoon.
Wine drunk, staring out the window.
And I mean really drunk.
And I certainly mean really staring.
It's so foggy here up on this hill.
All you can see is a blur.
The very bottom of the blur is orange,
But that is just because of the streetlights
That are out in the parking lot.
The rest of the blur is purple,
But an orange-y purple.
It kind of hurts your eyes to look at it.
But it is beautiful and sad,
And not sad like how your mother hits you
Or your cat gets cancer
Or you relapsed after four months.
It's sad like when you realize
You're 4/5ths through an amazing movie,
Or when you see a surprise military homecoming
Or you unpack in a new home.
My room mate won't be back
Until much later.
I don't mind.
I need some time
To get wine drunk and stair out the window.
And be sad.
But it's not quite as beautiful as the blur.
That's okay anyway.
I'm in love with my fiance.
And my best friend.
And my cat.
And my little sister.
And all my new dresses
That I ordered on cyber Monday.
I'll be doing just fine when they come in.
When I make it through the orange-y purple blur.
Pray for me.
Because my toes are cold,
And so are my arms, and my cheeks, and my chest.
But my eyes and my outspoken tongue are on fire.
Mark Twain asked this,
And now I want to know, too.
Why didn't anyone ever pray for Satan?
Hundreds of centuries have gone by,
And no one prayed for the man
Who could have used your kind words
The very very most?
WHY?
No one is praying for Satan,
Someone better pray for me.
Maybe one of your gods will take pity.
None of mine have.
But they say I'll be doing just fine when those dresses come in.
You know?
When I make it through the blur.

Are you telling me,
That no one ever shamed little red riding hood?
She was ***** by that wolf.
And as much as you call him
The villain,
The antagonist,
The evil.
You say that she was foolish,
And gullible,
And irresponsible.
Of course.
She was a CHILD.
You all write off the wolf as bad.
Just **** him.
He is evil by nature.
No one cares.
You don't even give him a single thought.
But you tell your children
Don't explore the world on your own,
And don't trust new people,
And DON'T get *****.
Can you even **** shame a child?
She was ASKING for it?

I'm disgusted.
Don't teach little boys not to be vicious WOLVES,
Just teach little girls not to be trusting and care free Little Red Riding Hoods.
And if you think this is just about this story,
I'm even more disgusted in you.

It's 10:51
My Philosophy of Science class
Wasn't supposed to end until 11:15.
There is 39 minutes until Accounting.
I don't like this.
Because the cafe will be too full
It would cause a bad attack.
Because I was dumb and didn't take
My anti anxiety meds.
So I have to sit down on a bench in the hallway.
Stairs are a wreck.
My knees just shake.
I took too much of my friend's adderall
Because I never went to sleep.
And I needed to do all of these assignments
And exams
And papers
And swap tragic life stories with Becca
And I only picked at a piece of watermelon for breakfast
And now I have the shakes.
And I'm either really ******* hot
Or really ******* cold.
And I don't know which one.
So I'm just wearing a really warm sweatshirt.
Isn't this great

You were born on a day
Where the oxygen in the room
Was thick and far from humble.
You were too perfect,
And I was shining with way too much pride
For the suggested serving size.

And you were gasping right before
You took your real first breath.
And I saw myself in you.
Gasping, trying to cry,
Trying to release and experience.
But lungs are made of wood sometimes.

Then you finally breathed in
And started crying hysterically,
Like babies do.
And that was the first thing we had in common.
Wooden lungs.
Our blue eyes were the second.

Sorry about your father,
He was less of a father figure
And more like a father figurine.
Too breakable, and far too easy
To put in the back of closet.

He never had to struggle for the air like we do.
He doesn't know how good that unhumble air tastes.
He didn't have wooden lungs.
And his eyes were brown.

This week I have been teaching my little ghost to read.
We have started with, of course,
Cat in the Hat.
His favorite letter is C.
Because it's in his name,
And it's in chocolate.
And it's shaped like a cookie with a bite taken out of it.
Those are his words not mine.
He is very good at this.
I am so proud of my little Collin.
His new nickname is "mostly ghostly".
He learned it from his new friend Jordan.
Baby **** life.

Call me honeybee one more time,
I dare you.
I love it.
I am so platonicly in love with you.
You are better than starbucks.
Maybe five times better,
But I'm contemplating six and a half.
I just want to make sure you're always super duper happy.
And bring you soup, and tea, and fuzzy blankets, and fab movies when you're sad.
You are the absolute cutest.
You no think I'm pretty.
So dot zee to you.
But I'll get over it,
And I'll never be over you.
No ****.
With all the **** in the world implied.
I feel like I should insert some sort of suggestive emoticon here.

I was always weirdly rebellious as a child.
As a teen I never pierced my tongue,
Snuck boys over the house,
Or stole candy bars from the convenience store.
Not me, when I was little
I would refuse to take my naps.
I'd fake sleeping and then sit there and hum to myself,
Waiting for my matka to come back and check on me.
I cut my own bangs,
Even when I was five.
Even when I was five the day before school pictures.
Matka wasn't pleased.
I didn't want to learn the Polish I was being taught.
I wanted to be different.
I didn't want chocolate milk like everyone else.
I wanted plain milk,
Not sweet milk.
Everyone liked sweets.
I didn't like the sun,
Because everyone liked the sun.
I liked the rain.
I wanted to be different.
My favorite word was podnóżek.
Do not be fooled,
It is nothing pretty.
It means footrest.
I liked it because it was different.
I wanted to be a rebel.
The coolest rebel of all.
One who fakes her naps, cuts her hair, drinks plain milk, and enjoys the word footrest.
The coolest rebel of all.

If only you could high jack my blood stream
And do an immediate landing.
Because I am flying so high.

If the sun wants to play
Who am I to turn her away?

I was going to write this poem
On anxieties and procrastination.
But then I decided to write it later.
But that really freaked me out.
So here it is.

You're drunk.
I'm on pills.
It's like we have the same disease.

Lying in the grass at two in the morning,
Smoking some Marlboro 27s,
With a bottle of Sobieski by my side.
I'm staring into the completely blank sky,
And the clouds have gypped me again.
My stomach feels warm,
My head feels heavy.
The clouds where too ominous.
I should have remembered foreshadowing from my childhood.
The one vocab used every ******* year ,
From ages 10 to 18.
I knew it was going to rain.
By this point I don't have enough sobriety stored up to care.
Or to leave.
If the rain wants to get in my hair, and my mouth, and my clothes, and my soul,
It'll be closer than I want anyone else to be at this moment.

Sometimes you're a drunken little brat.
Have fun with that.
Insult me all you want.
I'm the dealer,
You can't beat the house.
The house always wins.