bad day. "fucked up" night
toddly you stupid bastard lets hang out soon.
one year ago today my mother died.
me and her best friend jenny went to the dunedin causway because it was my moms favorite place to get fucked up. her favorite flower was the sunflower so we got a dozen sunflowers and threw them into the sea.
i tried to cry. GOD did i want to cry so badly. but i couldnt.
i went home and went through a box of her shit that i didnt have the guts to look through until today.
Im glad I did.
I found letters i wrote her when i was little.
pictures of her at livestock.
pictures of me and her when i was a baby.
pictures of my brothers and sisters that ive never met or seen.
her wiccan books.
her pipes, old glow sticks a hooka and a "drug experiance" journal.
letters between her and friends about my dad disapearing.
a lot more.
its hard to miss someone you never met.
but i found a way to make it possible.
damn myself for turning to pills to cope.
i guess its better than alcohol because that would just turn into a huge bundle of an emotional mess.
ill save the drinking for tomorrow on st patricks day.
off to the bathroom with her picture..whats left of my roxies, a rolled up dollar bill and a stuffy nose.
it was her favorite pill to snort. and quite possibly what killed her.
ohh what have i done to myself.
one year ago today my mother died.
me and her best friend jenny went to the dunedin causway because it was my moms favorite place to get fucked up. her favorite flower was the sunflower so we got a dozen sunflowers and threw them into the sea.
i tried to cry. GOD did i want to cry so badly. but i couldnt.
i went home and went through a box of her shit that i didnt have the guts to look through until today.
Im glad I did.
I found letters i wrote her when i was little.
pictures of her at livestock.
pictures of me and her when i was a baby.
pictures of my brothers and sisters that ive never met or seen.
her wiccan books.
her pipes, old glow sticks a hooka and a "drug experiance" journal.
letters between her and friends about my dad disapearing.
a lot more.
its hard to miss someone you never met.
but i found a way to make it possible.
damn myself for turning to pills to cope.
i guess its better than alcohol because that would just turn into a huge bundle of an emotional mess.
ill save the drinking for tomorrow on st patricks day.
off to the bathroom with her picture..whats left of my roxies, a rolled up dollar bill and a stuffy nose.
it was her favorite pill to snort. and quite possibly what killed her.
ohh what have i done to myself.