Girl

is with someone
old enough
to be her father
he cheats
lies
has no money
does
sells drugs
and uses her
credit cards
she drove
across the city
with his drugs
in her trunk
got arrested
said to me

“Don’t tell anyone”
it’s public
everyone knows

She lets him
move in with her
complains everyday
about him

I say
“I don’t like him”
she becomes
a defensive and silent
child
she denies she is
she is sleeping
with someone
twice her age

I think
at last they aren’t
in my presence

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Stranger

I don’t know
who he is
he follows
stares at me
alone or
with his girlfriend
sitting next to him
we haven’t
exchanged
a single word

People notice
but they don’t say
a single word
it’s ‘not a crime’
and doesn’t matter
he’s presence affects
my mental health

I’ve had a man
with the same
blonde hair
blue eyes
follow me
for years
he left me
traumatized
after he
sexually abused me
threatened to kill me

He was someone I knew
personally
not a stranger
like this man is

I am forced to be silent
about this issue
among other things

To be continued

Agent of Douche

I drove by his house today, in the first time I can’t tell you how long. He had a garbage bin in the middle of the road. I thought about running it over but then if something happened, I would have to talk to him. I haven’t talked, seen, nor heard from him in years; for years. I haven’t fully told anyone what happened between us because that’d make me look like a number of things I wasn’t. I’d rather have them think the relationship ended when I was some drunk airhead in my early twenties. I blabbed about Kesha, turned over to look at him and spilled his beer. He broke up with me the next day because I didn’t clean it up.

I never told anyone about the times we hooked up after. At that point I was living on my own and in college and things went south in my relationship. I met him one day when I was walking to the lake — he was driving in his border patrol car to it because that’s his fucking job. He was surprised and asked to see me later. Of course I did. How could I not? I had a lot of fun with this man before our true colors came out. We went out drinking, bonfires, kayaking, motorcycle rides, shooting guns, etc. And so we hung out in his new hot tub, naked; and went upstairs to have sex. It was passionate but not passionate enough to convince me he was the one. It reminded me of that night in December, I slept with him and told him I loved someone else and felt guilty after. Yet, I still did it a couple more times until he put the idea in my head we were nothing but fuck buddies. That’s not what I wanted nor intended but I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. The last time we spoke was text, he probably said something cocky and I went off on a tangent. We both walked away…

 

(Yeah, I ran into one too many exs one way or another today.)

Really going on

The truth is, I can’t tell you.
I don’t like what I do.
I’m not happy with what I do.
If anything I’m disgusted with what I do.
All it is a paycheck to me.
I know I can’t make plans or have a future without it.
I ask myself if it’s worth it and I don’t know why, it’s not.
I was happier when I was broke, having very little to get by.
I had less stress and conflict in my life.
I could actually see my boyfriend, eat, and sleep like a normal person.
I get a few hours now.
In the morning, I don’t induce vomiting yet still throw up my coffee.
I don’t think it’s the coffee.
I know nothing I do is worth it yet I do it anyway.
It’s no longer clear to me what or who I am fighting for.
Besides to get the hell away from this place.
 

Bad online dating experience

I was 21 years old, he was 24-26. He asked me to meet him at a bowling alley with him and his friends because he wanted to be in a ‘group setting’. I thought it was really because he was afraid I would stand him up, he tried to meet with me before and I refused. I figured, why not meet him? I was single and he was cute.

 

So… I meet him inside the bowling alley and he looks like his picture, expect one thing. His profile said he was 5’6 but he was really like 5’1. I am 5’4, so that’s definitely shorter than me and what I look for in a guy.

 

I sit down with him and his friends, he sits close to me and I feel uncomfortable like he’s in my personal space. I look around the bowling alley and see some losers I went to high school with. We talk a bit, he asks me what I do and I ask him the same. I say something about school (I don’t remember if I was working or not at the time) and he says how he didn’t do college, doesn’t have a job, and does ‘underground tattoos’. My cell phone goes off, I look at it and don’t respond. He asks me who I’m texting and goes off to smoke with his friends.

 

I don’t date smokers (I don’t smoke and I’ve been around smokers my whole life, it doesn’t appeal to me.)… his profile said he wasn’t a smoker so he also lied to me about that too.

 

He comes back again and sits even closer to me. Again, he asks me who texted me. I say a friend though it actually isn’t a friend. It was my going to be my boyfriend (and future ex). I call it a night and tell him I have to go home or my mother will freak out. (It wasn’t true.)

 

I decided he was oddly possessive, a liar, and too short for my liking. Had he told me the truth about him from the beginning, I could have looked over his height.

Honestly answering an Ex’s questions

Why didn’t you respond to my text?
You texted me? I blocked your cell phone number.

 

Did you miss me?
I miss the sex, I don’t miss you so much.

 

Do you love me?
I loved you but I don’t anymore. Okay, maybe I do love you. Not in the sense I want to marry you, in the sense I don’t want to hurt you.

 

Would you consider getting back with me?
No, yes, no, yes, no. It depends, are you still flirting with/screwing everyone you see?

 

Why did you break up with me?
I was still in love with my ex boyfriend.

 

You loved your ex more than you loved me?
Yes. I mean, we’ve been together for four years.

 

So you choose him over me?
Yes.

 

Will you go out with me?
Maybe if I was single.

 

Why did you make it difficult to see me when you were single?
I knew you only wanted to see me to have sex and I had a million other things going on my in my life. The last thing I wanted to be was some guy’s booty call.

 
 

Yeah, I know (OF) him

I heard his name
I never spoke his name
I saw his face yet never thought anything of it
Couple years go by, I hear it again
He’s a former drug dealer and addict
that is friends with the former class clown
They never made it out of this town

I friended people
and dated guys that are not from
this place
they were from another country
or town miles away

I ask myself why…

The person for me isn’t a junkie
pervert, liar, scrub, or psychopath
that believes I’d date him because
I said, “Hi.”

The person for me is someone that
does something and doesn’t constantly
accuse me of doing something I am not doing
especially on social media which the people
from my town like to do

I ask myself why people here are like that
I remind myself it’s because they have
nothing better to do
I ask myself if I belong here
I say no
I never have and never will
I’ve been disconnected with this place
my entire life

Life questions

If I think another girl is hot, does it make me a lesbian?
Only if you don’t like men.

Can I get pregnant from masturbation?
That’s why you’re $100,000 in debt. Child support.

Is it okay to date two people at once?
Can you live with herpes?

Why can’t I get pregnant?
Did you try having sex?

Why am I so miserable?
You’re not getting laid.

Why am I still single?
Because you’re asking me why you’re single.

Why don’t they like me?
They’re losers.

Am I going to get a better job?
Call a psychic.

How much of my writing is true

The question is whether or not it was my own idea — and what’s in it for me.

 

Own idea

My thoughts or stories from my life.

Yeah some details are blurry and some things I didn’t write down exactly as it was said. I don’t have the best memory in the world but by no means am I going to bullshit real stories from my life.

Fiction, screenplays, and poems — another story. I can bullshit all I want. If they were based off my life, no one would ever know.

 

Not my idea

Anything academic is bullshitted. I just do whatever they tell me to do because their is a grade involved. I don’t really give a shit about any if the papers I write about. If I did I would write about it on my own time.

 

I love to convince them

Wrong. Especially if I don’t know them or there is like I said — something in it for me. Damn well you bet I’m going to bullshit. Lies sell.

 

But…

If I don’t know you or love you though, I have no need to convince you or try to please me. That is the beauty about writing whatever you want.

What do you want to know?

Meeting people for the first time and/or having to pick something to write or talk about in front of an audience.

I hardly doubt you want to hear about all the ugly things I did to get here. I hardly doubt you want to know what I do now. Why would you? It’s either not your thing, similar experience, or something you can stomach.

I’m going to have to tell you anyways. I’m not the best liar in the world.

You know I been kicked out, fired, ill popping prescription pills, and living off other people?

Or how about the time I would starve myself, hide away in my room and not talk to someone, met someone guy from Argentina I met online when I was a teenager, didn’t go to my prom — instead went to some party at a strangers house with my sister, lost my virginity in a hotel room with a guy I met online from Connecticut, posted nude pictures and videos on the internet, posed for playboy, and cheated on my boyfriend with my ex.

Or all these times that I still have some blind belief I actually did love my ex, cry myself to sleep, get drunk and cry myself to sleep, get drunk and text people I shouldn’t, and sit around bored as fuck on my computer with little ambition to do anything — yet try anyways.

And the times I still get rejected by someone or something. People still act like they know me, yet don’t know the first thing about me. They paint me out to be some creep, weirdo, enemy, or freak. Which I am not. It is funny because I never would judge them they way they judge me. So that’s fine. That’s great. I don’t care.

What else you want to know? Nevermind, I am DONE.