i cannot believe that you left me. I waited all night and i actually fell asleep waiting for a ring, for a noise to indicate you trying, at least, to contact me. No text. No nothing. I can't stand being forgotton and left behind anymore. My WHOLE LIFE is central to the theme of lonliness and depression and the short bursts of light that make me smile and act like the dark parts don't exist. I refuse to sit back and let you treat me like whatever you want. All I wanted last night was to see you, we could've sat in your car and listened to music for all I cared. But what you did was wait on a van and some dude(what...?), and then went to your friends. I get a text at 10:15, THREE hours after you got off work, to tell me that there are too many people there and youve been drinking. I call to talk about it and you told me to text you. So i do as i'm told and after like 20 minutes of texting you stop answering. And when I call, I get the hang up. You knew I was trying to talk to you. You knew you shouldve stopped drinking. You knew i was upset. So I layed down on my bed, phone in hand and cried after waiting like 4 more hours for some sort of contact with you. I don't even know what happened last night, all I know is that I woke up fuming. I don't think I deserve no explanation at all. I know we're only dating, and I know I don't own you. But being the title of boyfriend, I would think you kindof wanted to see me... So now I'm waking to this feeling of discust, over my 4 plus hours of crying, and anger that you havn't talked to me about it. Fucking man up and talk to me, I wont wait around anymore. Tell me how this is fair.

really mom?

really. you have to preach to me about how illegal it is to do that, how we can't afford this and how you hate how i'm spending my money.

when you're out front in the garage smoking pot. fucking mary jane. which can get pretty pricey around here. IT IS MARYLAND and we are in THE USA, the east coast mo'fukkah, and sorry...but im pretty sure THATS ILLEGAL AAAAAND A WASTE OF MONEY.

go ahead and fucking pissyfit about me cleaning the guinnea pig cage
nbd. because you and your husband can go get high while the kids sleep later tonight...while i'm upstairs trying to avoid it and get the fuck outta here to hang out with friends and i come back later to find you passed out on the couch snoring while step father is blackout drunk from his daily alcoholic rituals sitting in his recliner.

these are a few of my favorite things.

now im going to write my research paper and pull an all nighter so i can pass english, get in line for next semesters' classes, pass all of those, graduate with a masters AND GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE.

i get so fucking frustrated with all the failure that surrounds me.

I'm in a car, a suburban, my mother and father in the front seat, me and my brother in the back seat. Seatbelted and ready for a family trip. We have all we need, my bag is in the back with all the essentials, my most essential item in my lap: my blanket. I am 5. And this blanket is my world, my only thing I can absolutely not live without. I hold it close, it's soft against my small face and I bury it into my lips to kiss the cold side of the surface. We drive up a mountain and I look out the window to see the cliff overhang. I cover my eyes with her, my blanket, I tell mommy i'm scared and I want to go home. She says nothing, face forward and up right. I ask for my daddy to get off the cliff, to drive faster around the next bend to regular level land. He slows the cage my body is seatbelted into, the cage that protects me from the fall. I look to my brother. He is 4. He is foward bound, studying the back of the driver's seat. I say to him, I say what's daddy doing and he looks over to me and cries. I feel I'm not welcome, I feel I should get out. And I do. And I shut the door and look to the car, wondering if I'm ever going to be home. And the car drives. Away from me. I scream and can't make a sound. I cry and ask for my mommy, I see my daddy flick a cigarette out the car off the tall cliff and it stumbles down the rigid surface. I'm alone now and I cry. I'm almost 6, and I want to die. As I jump off the cliff, I picture my blanket safely hanging on a rock where I kissed her and left her there. Safe and unharmed, she doesn't deserve the fall. She doesn't deserve the hurt. She doen't deserve the abuse of a malicious father. She doesn't deserve mothers cold and distant love. She doesn't have to live with a burden of a forgotton and abused child. She lives on to be soft and loving viel on a sad face she once was with the little girl, to an 18 year old girl.

and i wake up, blanket in hand.

soaked in tears.

and this is why i don't sleep
because
this is everynight of my life.


and i wish my father
was never my father