a pack a day will keep my doctor away
I've had this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach the past week, leading to assumptions that I just need to use the restroom but its more of a I'm-pretending-this-is-socially-awkward when really, I'm just nervous for anything to begin. And I keep throwing myself into precarious situations I should stay out of but I stopped pretending I cared a long time ago. I want this middle phase to be over with and begin the end, or end the beginning? I want to not be stuck in such a horrible space in my mind because thisisallthereis and I have nothing left to give. The date at the bottom of this page says septembersixth but its two days past but what I was doing on that day of your birth, oh you'd be ashamed, you'd be so let down. Whiskey and pepsi, or cherry coke, or whathaveyou. Champagne in paper bags, holding hands on swingsets, I'm not telling the truth to hurt you, merely because you just don't need to know. Taking inventory of all the people I used to love (I loved you) and all the ones I still do.
I like this street because its right in the heart of downtown but still so empty so I can sit here on these chairs that rock back like those movie theatre ones did, alternating between the cuddle seats and reclining, that one big dome of a cineplex. And I'm silently judging everyone that goes by because my forehead is warm but the rest of me isn't but there goes that movement in the bottom of my stomach. I don't know if it means something is really wrong and I still haven't talked to my mom but I worry I worry I worry. They're always on the road and so many things could go haywire on that tour bus of theirs. Engines could catch fire, tires could blowout, they could get hit by a train. My parents are the only people I would consider these horrible deaths for but its due to the fact that I always see them in harms way. Usually when I have these feelings I'll sit up late and text her and just tell her I love her but my pride is all welled up. Balled up tight and maybe that's what this feeling is, I have to let it go before it can subside.
When he asked me why I'm leaving I said its because I have no real attachments to this place and I felt bad because of our brief but tulmultuous exchanges. I can't get attached to anyone or anything because I just get so bored and I can't wait to be back in your arms in a place I'll finally call a real home, I hope its not so ugly this time.
I don't belong. So I'll keep sitting on this lonely street not so far from a place I could drink but I have to slow it down, I have to slow it down. I need sleep or a break from binging or to start purging again. When will I ever be ok? This time, maybe I'm moving in the right direction.
And I know the two of you are upset and wonder why I can't just make this transition peacefully but for I'm following my heart and my mind, for once the two are aligned. Thank you for everything you've done for me but I'm checking out and I'm going back and I miss it all. I have nothing here for me except whiskey at two am and cheap chasers.
I like this street because its right in the heart of downtown but still so empty so I can sit here on these chairs that rock back like those movie theatre ones did, alternating between the cuddle seats and reclining, that one big dome of a cineplex. And I'm silently judging everyone that goes by because my forehead is warm but the rest of me isn't but there goes that movement in the bottom of my stomach. I don't know if it means something is really wrong and I still haven't talked to my mom but I worry I worry I worry. They're always on the road and so many things could go haywire on that tour bus of theirs. Engines could catch fire, tires could blowout, they could get hit by a train. My parents are the only people I would consider these horrible deaths for but its due to the fact that I always see them in harms way. Usually when I have these feelings I'll sit up late and text her and just tell her I love her but my pride is all welled up. Balled up tight and maybe that's what this feeling is, I have to let it go before it can subside.
When he asked me why I'm leaving I said its because I have no real attachments to this place and I felt bad because of our brief but tulmultuous exchanges. I can't get attached to anyone or anything because I just get so bored and I can't wait to be back in your arms in a place I'll finally call a real home, I hope its not so ugly this time.
I don't belong. So I'll keep sitting on this lonely street not so far from a place I could drink but I have to slow it down, I have to slow it down. I need sleep or a break from binging or to start purging again. When will I ever be ok? This time, maybe I'm moving in the right direction.
And I know the two of you are upset and wonder why I can't just make this transition peacefully but for I'm following my heart and my mind, for once the two are aligned. Thank you for everything you've done for me but I'm checking out and I'm going back and I miss it all. I have nothing here for me except whiskey at two am and cheap chasers.