This is, bar none, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. I’ve been putting this off out of fear. Fear that once I start I won’t be able to stop. Fear that writing this will create more wounds on my already battered soul and fear that I won’t be able to convey just how
The nights I lay awake in bed, I wonder if I’m in your head. Do you miss me or even care? These are the thoughts I cannot bare. I hate to think you gave up on me, but now I know what I did not see. There are days when I miss you so, but
You would be so fucking proud of me. So proud. For speaking up. For taking my voice back. For finally fucking writing and not being afraid. I love you dearly because I know now that you said you were doing me a favour because you did not want to hurt me. Because we love each
“North American people are the only ones to line up for something as enjoyable as coffee just to take it and go sit on their ass at work.” I’m paraphrasing this a touch. My friend started it off with “Fucking white people.” I didn’t see his point of view before, but overtime I’ve come to
If I told you that I make money from another person’s garbage, would you believe me? Better yet, if I told you that I picked up the once TV unit above from the trash and made $120-dollar profit from two hours work, would you keep reading? Good. Keep fuckin reading. Now the truth of the
Down down the hole I go where I am nobody knows. Am I ignoring you or at an all time low? Up up smiling again trudging through the week ahead. Happiness is all you see but know it’s pain inside of me.
Forever debating chopping all my hair off and shaving my head. Until then it’s up in a hair clip for my indecisive ass.
Because you told me I could depend on you. Because you told me you would be here for me. Because I told you I didn’t want your charity. Because I told you I just want your honesty. Because I still accepted you into my home. Because I made plans with you. Because I told you
How is it you have me craving a cigarette when I don’t even smoke?