Awww, you tried so hard, but unfortunately I can’t hear you over the sound of my debt-free college degree and massive disposable income.
if someone writes you a letter or makes you a mixtape or composes a poem or song about you or creates literally anything for you then you had better cherish the absolute shit out of that person because they care about you a real lot
you don’t understand how hard it is to take a selfie when you’re ugly
Are you calling me attractive? 😏
do u ever smell weed and wonder where that chill person is
I remember when I saw you for the first time.
How my heart was pounding and my mind was determined to make you all mine.
How every word that escaped your lips would warm me up like vodka sips from a bottle,
the one I was all too familiar with,
the bottle who listened to my problems as I sobbed in utter darkness in an empty room like my empty soul,
I remember clutching a fistful of my hair and pulling so hard I thought my scalp would tear off.
Rocking back and forth like the motion would soothe me somehow.
I remember the burn of the drink down my throat and
how many times I wrote explanations in my ‘goodbye’ notes.
I remember restless nights when I would smoke
something to put my mind at ease
and how I’d listen to the wind blow through the trees
and how your voice was just as soothing .
I remember staring at the sky in complete silence feeling the hot tears roll down my face
and how I just wanted to get out of this place
and all I needed was to see your face to bring me back to peace.
But you weren’t always there like the vodka, pills and weed
you were never there to hold me in my time of need
and I resented you for it.
There was nothing you could do thousands of miles away and you didn’t know what to say to keep the urges at bay,
and I broke your heart every fucking day.
I said terrible things to you, I did things that I can never undo.
And even to this day I say that you were the one that got away but you and I know the truth.
You and I know that I’m the one that hurt you.
Sometimes in the night I crawl out of bed with these thought spinning in my fucking head
like how I deserve to be dead and how I should have been sweet but instead
I was poison to you.
I go outside like I used to but instead of a pipe in my hand or a bottle of liquid pain reliever,
I wear your shirts and hold the things you sent me in my hands and I still feel the hot tears roll down my face.
I still wish to escape this place
but you don’t even want to rescue me anymore.
You think I’m a bitchy, addicted whore. And I could not agree with you more this life has become too much of a chore,
I’ve been changing as if you’ll notice and take me back, I’ve been trying to get my life back on track
but it’s hard to resist the bottle screaming my name and it’s hard to keep away from the leaves that used to keep me somewhat sane.
In my demented mind there’s always that small chance that you will love me again
and that’s why I haven’t ended it all.
I know it sounds stupid and I know it won’t come true.
And although I can recover from most of my addictions, no matter what I fucking try, I can’t recover from you.