Skip to main content

Wishing



11:11 rolled around again.
Instead of wishing for love
or less confusion
or something for me,
like I'd normally do,
I wished for the kids.
I wished for the safety
and peace of mind
of those poor kids.
I wished for their
mental abuse to end,
for them to smile
like they used to.
I didn't even think
about including myself in that,
though I suffer the same problems.
My worries are strictly for them,
little kids who don't know how to survive.
I can take care for myself,
but they're so fragile- so innocent.
I wish I could go back to that,
but it's too late for me.
All I can do preserve theirs
and wish for them at every 11:11
and on every shooting star and dandelion.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"I'll Be There"

Everyone always says "If you ever need me, I'll be there." But when I do need someone, when I crying my eyes out in the corner thinking of bringing the blade out once again, when I can't find the motivation to get out of bed, when nothing feels right and all I want to do is cry and have someone tell me it's okay, nobody's there. Never. So how am I supposed to believe you when you say "Trust me, I'll be there no matter what. All you have to do is call.", but when I do call, you're busy or ignore the ringing? How am I supposed to tell you when something is wrong when you never listen for the goddamn ringing?

My Late Confession

Maybe you light up my day.  Maybe you make me smile through the darkness in my head.  Maybe you make my stone cold heart beat again.  Maybe you woke up the butterflies in my stomach and make them dance every time you touch me.  Maybe I like you a hell of a lot more than I've let on but maybe I'm afraid to be close.  Maybe it's because I'm afraid to lose you. 

Living Art

I'm a fucking masterpiece with my chipped nail polish, pudgy tummy, touching thighs, unbrushed hair, smudged eyeliner, and faded lipstick. I may look a wreck, but that's just me. And I am a piece of art.