it's an obsession the way i continue to look online for my grades though i know only a few hours have passed since i took a test or turned an assignment in but i continue to keep looking because i do not understand why it can't be online right then, right now, who the hell wants to wait a day or longer to get a grade but they have lives just as i do but i don't have a life because he is my life now and he is not here for me to be around twenty-four-seven and i wonder why hyphens had to be invented why we could not just do without and fucking fuck you johnson for creating the first english dictionary and making double-negatives wrong because i have a major issue with anything that sways against your rules and i know enough to know you did not care about your work after a certain point because you felt cheated and you were not given enough credit but what would that credit have gotten you? nothing you can't purchase today for 19.99 and i think infomercials tell us more about ourselves and each other than any psychiatrist ever could and today i sat there alone with my guilty food and even guiltier wine and sometimes i drink enough espresso to feel as though i am again on speed and it's really basically the same thing except sometimes i forget which one is illegal and i may have stolen money from my step-father during the moments when no one notices and i won't ever tell if that's true or not but when someone erases you from their life it takes too much effort to get back in and i don't really care if it makes sense, or if you know who johnson is or if i spelled anything correctly because why the fuck would you hold me accountable for things my hands are typing without my consent and why did he not love me enough to help me? and why can't i make myself study when i could easily get an "a" yet all i care about is passing and it's just science and it's just for the back-up plan of being a nurse and it's not really where i want to go in life and you probably get sick of these run-on paragraphs i create but i really cannot help it it is what it is and i know that sounds like i'm giving in or giving up but i fight every day just to keep from taking the drugs that are downstairs and i have not touched any in a few months but every day i walk up to the cabinet and count the pills to be sure i did not sleep-walk my way back into my drug habit and i told a classmate the other day that i am in recovery and he was shocked and i hate the shock i see in the eyes when i say it and maybe i should look strung-out so it can make sense but i still have to force myself to count to sixty before i can walk away from the drugs and the other day at school i met a drug dealer and he offered me coke for free and i thought about it, i really did think for a whole six minutes before i turned him down and the classmates looked puzzled and who knows why but i do and i won't tell and i think i could turn something into nothing if i was just given enough time and enough reason but really none of it matters when you dissect it and tomorrow i will head to florida for the month and who knows if all of me will come back because he has me and i will not lose again

and this is why i make the effort to type when i am on because sometimes the only way to make you hear is to scream.

12/06/2011

Author's Note:

[they really do]

Posted on 12/06/2011
Copyright © 2026 Ava Blu

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Meghan Helmich on 12/08/11 at 03:06 AM
Who are you telling?!