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littlemissinvisble

It's a bubbly life ^~^

Month

May 2017

Zach. 

Zach. 

You sat across from me with your coffee mug 

Black with no sugar. 

I glanced out the window watching the snowfall

And Madelyn sledding down the hill. 
In her innocence I saw us 

You making hot cocoa with the carefullest delicacy 

After us sledding in -20 degree temperature.

You building a snow fort

Crowning me princess of the castle. 
Christmas music plays fuzzily in the background.

I watch you look dully at your phone

While mom asks how college is. 

It takes me back to when you sang me Christmas hymns 

In a Mickey Mouse voice. 
Mom leaves us alone 

And almost immediately your face turns cold

You insist that mom forced us 

kicking and screaming into this existence.

That every day is a struggle to breathe.
I stare at your body posture

Your hands are wrapped so tightly around the mug that it might break. 

You are a cold engineer fixing capitalism now

Making small talk about the bourgeoisie.

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My name isn’t Karen darling. 

My name isn’t Karen darling.
The rose petals make a beautiful canvas 

of broken promises and sweet nothings you made to me. 

I am bent over cigarette ashes 

My high heels have rubbed into mosaic.
I look down the moonlit street.

The wind blows creating a secondhand made symphony. 

It is bittersweet music to my ears 

And as the wind picks up and the rain makes a soft

1,2,1,2,1,2,3.
I laugh hysterically because you promised me a dance in the rain,

But instead we ended up in Minneapolis traffic high. 

My throat burnt with the temporary happiness and nostalgia. 

Even now outside on the steps I felt that same familiar burning come back.
The thunder makes a deep yell across the 2:45 a.m. Mural of green and grey

I softly whisper back to it, “Fuck you Karen.” 

It picks up faster and faster 

The scattered rose petal promises blow away. 
The thunder crescendos to a mezzo forte 

And my desperation to be free intensifies.

Until finally I cut the strings holding my thought process 

In this weeping willow.

I know you, but that’s because we are both walking art.

I know you, but that’s because we are both walking art.

And one day he will lose control and he will use your body as a punching bag.
You are going to look like a Jackson pollock piece.
When people ask you’ll lie to yourself and say it was your fault,
It was your fault you dressed in such a way that other men looked at you,
That you provoked his jealous tendencies.

And one day your eyes will clear up and you will see him for what he really is,
But then he’ll say,”Hello.”
And you will try your hardest to be strong, but that red notification is so irritating.
Your knees will lock and you will fall.

And one day becomes today, but
It’s too late because you opened up your innermost thoughts to him.
He knows how to pull your strings just right.
It must be getting dark sitting in his closet with all his other skeletons
Like some discarded piece of paper mache.

Shattered (poem by me)

(The formatting always gets fucked up and I’m too lazy to fix it.) 
Shattered

You told me jokingly that I am a glass half empty type of girl 
That you were a glass half full type of gentleman 

The significance of this did not make much sense at the time 

I looked both ways

I left the gun carefully kept away 

I gaged the amount of alcohol in my bloodstream 

The glass was more than half empty it was definitely half full 
You wandered aimlessly between cars 

Anything you could get with the money from your crappy 9 to 5 job you took 

Glass jagged it imprinted all the lies you told yourself into your skin 

A good friend once told me that it doesn’t matter 

The glass is always full half of air and half of water 

Neither of our cups were empty 

Either way the glass sits right there for everyone to see
You carried your glass in front of you faking fulfillment 

I like so many other people didn’t see the small chip in your cup 

Until all the water was dripping out of it onto your clothes and into the ground

Here’s that post I promised you lol. 

Ok so my love life…or my mess? 

Right so that guy who I’ve been seeing since February is possessive and paranoid and lowkey telling me how to dress so that other people don’t look at me. So that’s a thing, but when I am with him I feel so special…like a princess. My friend says that it’s asshole syndrome he acts like an ass 90% of the time so the 10% that he is nice it seems amazing. Maybe that’s true…? I don’t know. 

The kid from outpatient has chilled out, but I can’t get him to admit that he is clingy as fuck. Oh well. 

The friend who told me about the asshole syndrome is way too nice. I don’t feel like I deserve him. I like him, but I just don’t deserve someone that nice. I feel like it’s been beaten into me that I don’t deserve to be treated nicely all the time. That’s an awful way to think. I wish I didn’t feel that way. I like this friend very much, but it’s too much. I don’t deserve him. 

I deserve to be disciplined and treated like a princess when I am good. That’s how it’s always been. 

Feedback? 

Escape from the system 

The keys were left carelessly in the ignition 

How could you have been so forgetful

I crept through the bushes and got in the truck no stick shift this time

Suddenly the curtains flew open…had you seen me? 
Ignition, keys in. 

Sober this time conscious of our decision 
Down the street my buddy hops in passenger seat 

Eagerly we set down the freeway 

And a single state trooper spots us 

Taking off at 100 miles per hour 

Hoodie up obscuring my face 
Initially this seemed like a good idea 

Sirens blare in the background 

Now the cop cars multiply 

“Tell me now if you want to get out of this or put your seatbelt on if you want to stay.” 

Inside the truck a single click 

Thousands of cars clear the way for the maniac 
Ominous deafening silence 

Roadside kill 
Still I have an idea 

Or I hope I do 

Miles pass by 

Every couple seconds another cop joins

Train, a single narrow continuity 

How even then the math and the angles I needed to contemplate 

In order to get around the train and leave the state trooper in the dust 

Not a good idea 

Gage the distance between us 
Lines of cop cars a funeral procession 

Instantaneously, a spike strip 

Kindred looks at me 

Even then hope remanant in his eyes 
It spread across the windshield like a spider web 

Time stopped 

I don’t write on here that often anymore because I’m trying to live life and not dwell on it.

Hi, what’s up? It’s been a good amount of time. I’m back at normal school this week. Wednesday was my first day back and honestly it has been amazing. I love being back at school. There is just one underlying thing that has been irritating me very much. That would be that I don’t get to turn in my drawing portfolio I have worked on all year. I haven’t worked on it since I got put into outpatient I’ve been focusing on myself. Thus I have 4/12 pieces done for this half of the year oops. That’s ok though. I can retake it next year whatever. It’s just kind of a bummer because everyone’s hyper and excited and turning theirs in and well I’m not…it makes me anxious to be in AP drawing, but I know it doesn’t make me any less than the rest of them.

There was this kid from outpatient and I let him take me in a date. We hung out a total of two times and he became super clingy. Fuck that shit I’m out. We don’t mess with codependency. Also all this other crap is happening too which is a delight, but otherwise I really cannot complain. Let’s just say my “love life” is such a mess I would rather just not date anyone Jesus Christ. The thing he said that bugged me the most is that he believes he’s the only one who can provide me with happiness which is just about the stupidest thing I’ve heard. Not true whatsoever. I’m capable of being happy without a relationship I’m not that delicate.

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