The clock strikes 12
And it's a new slate
With new problems
And more chances to do wrong.
The last 365 days
Are a thing of the past.
Don't look back.
So here's to another year
Of heart ache, procrastination,
Regret, and insanity.
Put your cups up
And wish each other good luck
Cause we sure as hell need it.
She used to tell me at 11:11
To make a wish.
She used to wake me up with kisses.
And she used to write me poetry.
I used to make a wish.
I used to wake up sweetly.
I used to read poetry.
But now at 11:11
She's never home.
And by the time I wake
She's already gone.
And her poetry isn't like it used to be.
I always forget to wish.
I wake up missing her.
And now I'm the one who writes poetry about her.
you made my hopes go
up
higher than I could ever get on my own.
but they never came back down
and you left me all alone.
as you and your friends
walked and laughed away
my hopes are still in the clouds
because they, and I
think you'll come back someday.
and I just hope
that one day
you'll be happy.
you look at yourself
and smile.
your scars won't be there
anymore.
and you'll love yourself
more than you ever thought.
it's hopeless
but I'm still hoping.
don't think
that just because you have
something everybody wants,
like a boyfriend,
new phone,
or concert tickets
will make everything better.
you could have it all
and still have the urge
to jump and fall.
but in reality
does it really matter who likes you
and who doesn't?
because at the end of the day
we're all still alone
and we don't even like
ourselves
I want to give you
a hug
a kiss
a dozen cookies
and hopefully you'll return
a smile
"thanks"
and a kiss back.
even if they're all fake.
"are you okay?"
the question that nobody really
wants
the answer to.
of course,
we say yes,
but we never mean it.
hopefully one day
we'll tell the truth.
Where is mommy?
I only see her at night
Where did she go?
Daddy
Why is mommy sad?
I always hear her cry
Why does she cry?
Daddy
Why does mommy have scars?
She gets new ones every night
Why does she get hurt?
Daddy
Who's hurting mommy?
She's not the same as she used to be
Why is she changing?
Daddy
is the four letter word
that kept me going after
love
let me down
the roses,
tulips,
and daisys
are being consumed
by the multiple variations
of weeds in my garden.
you can barely see
the pretty pieces of life
that used to be free.
we are all just
sleep-deprived teenagers
going on
in the life we didn't choose to live,
laughing at jokes
to make people believe we are alive,
listening to music
that doesn't want to make us die;
all convinced we're happy inside
even though we all have a reason
to cry.