My older brother received a call at two pm on a Thursday,
That his roommate from college
And best friend from high school;
Overdosed and died,
Last Wednesday night.
My brother is 25 years old.
He missed three days of work, sat at home in the dark,
And cried for the first time in six months.
This is not poetry.
My father is very, very sick.
He sleeps for seven hours,
To build up a half hour of strength,
Just so he can pick me up from school.
He hasn’t been well in over a year.
He prays every night, “Thank you God, for making this happen to me, and not my children.”
I am swallowed in fear,
That soon enough, he will go to bed,
And never wake up.
This is not poetry.
There are thousands of people,
just to have one more day,
In hopes that it will get better.
You people glorify sadness,
and long for your death,
because apparently life,
is just too much of a burden.
Wake up, your ignorance is sickening.
Your life is thousands of times more beautiful,
Than your death will be.
if I offered you $20, would you take it?
How about if I crumpled it up?
Stepped on it?
you would probably take it even though it was crumpled and stepped on it. Do you know why?
Because it is still $20, and its worth has not changed.
The same goes for you; if you have a bad day, or if something bad happens to you, you are not worthless.
if someone crumples you up or steps on you, your worth does not change. You are still just as valuable as you were before.
I’m useless. Im worthless; I feel like I’m going no where. I act like it’s all okay; that I’ve got plans. I feel like you deserve better. I feel like I don’t satisfy you. As if I don’t make you happy enough. It eats me. It tears me apart. These thoughts, these panic attacks, the anxiety attacks. Whatever they are, they kill me. I’m scared because I know you deserve better, and I feel that when you realize that you’ll leave me. Why would someone stay with someone when they see and know they deserve better? I don’t know, maybe I’m just freaking out.
Everybody goes through some bullshit. It doesn’t matter how you measure it, it doesn’t matter how it weights out to someone else’s bullshit.The fact of the matter is that you have to press on and you have to smile, and you have to figure out how you’re going to keep trying.
Lets not forget about their toes curling, their eyes rolling to the back of their heads, or the body jerks and vibrations that occur when we pleasure them. It fuckin fuels my desire so much. Makes me wanna work as hard as I can to make her lose control and leave the bed soaked. Real talk.