Happy Ending...Happy ending
I have optimism on speed dial, but pessimism stalks me. So do boys who like to break hearts. I have them on speed dial too, actually.
Or maybe it's just my expertise. I'm great at choosing the one from the litter that pisses all over the house. Why would they? They just get tired of me, you know. Happens to me so often, I kind of forgot how it feels like to not be tired of.
I've gotten so good at empty tear ducts, writing extremely cynical emotional prose, and complaining-- though everyone says it's fine, it's fine. I tutor on weekends how to give second chances ["and more" classes are also available], how to be incredibly vulnerable, and how to not have an emotional breakdown after you've been used, cheated on, lead on, and played.
Tip: When you cry, cry your eyes out until there's so much pressure focused on your eyes. It feels better to cry. Crying cleanses the soul... or something like that. It doesn't really, it just makes you feel a whole lot better.
Nothing that cares.I'm talking to nothing that cares.
Nothing really to know, 'cept it's running in my head--
Everything. You know, you can never really tell with these things. What? I don't know. I'm trying to portray teenage life through a poem. Although "teenagers are braindead."
Tell me if it works.
I don't really know what I'm doing with my life. It's true.
I've been fucking up so much lately.
Fucking up my life, my everything, with or without you.
These past few weeks-- days, even-- I've done things that I wouldn't have done. I never would have done.
If this had happened a month ago even, I wouldn't have.
But I did. You know?
I don't know if it was just for fun..
Maybe because I wasn't in the right mindset. But even so,
two days later, God... two days?! Not even a week, but five days short.
[It wasn't out of nowhere though, as most people believe. A month ago.]
I know I've changed. I know. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have done these things.
I'm just repeating myself now-- I'm so redundant, repeating my