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[helpme225]

a year ago tonight we were walking on the main road that runs through our small town. it was storming and with every strike of lighting, you held my hand a little tighter. neither of our parents knew we were out, or that we were going to my place to watch a movie.

and now we driving in your mothers stolen car, it’s 2am, and you speed over every bump on this back road. you’re taking me to your house as fast as you can before she notices her car gone.

just how my mom wont notice i’m away either tonight because you’ll be driving me home at 5am.

We are a trespassing, unruly, runaway, and assault charge split between the both of us later from where we started.

we’ll never learn from our mistakes. and it stormed today too.

[helpme225]

I saw on writing your pain in detail for others to relate. But I don’t think anyone will. I speak again on that morning. We were high off of a probably delta8 cartridge 😭. I don’t know. But I walked the tracks in the middle of the night to his house. It took 30-45 minutes because I decided to walk the main road midway through. It was the middle of June I think. I seen headlights halfway down the wet tracks and i was convinced it was the cops or someone waiting on me to get down there because I’ve done this before, and someone in town could’ve seen me on the tracks heading this way. The light was shining from a windbreak. I just took the next street over. I arrived and his mom was still awake watching tv. I got on the ground under a tree with sticky grass. It smelled like pinsole. I stayed there and waited for him. If he went out to the street I was supposed to be on, or still inside. I didn’t know but it felt like forever and i was shifting around the tree when I seen headlights to avoid them. Most were semis. He eventually came outside and walked to me and helped me up. I hugged him. I hadn’t seen him in so long and I was so tired. His house is brick and he has a huge backyard for horses. The house didn’t smell cozy, but like three boys lived there. It was loved by a single mom. The house. It’s questionable by the sons. It felt like home to me even though I was never welcomed by his mom there. His bed was still mine.

[helpme225]

I am illiterate

[helpme225]

PTSD will destroy you. Yes I regret, I am remorseful, I feel your pain mom, but I never learned how to stop

I never felt a breeze this good, in the end I know it will suffocate me like last month. But I am here. And I didn’t die last week. Although I felt it for a second. I stood up inside the closet from slipping against the wall. I stood and felt the breeze. I tried again, my legs wouldn’t give out like that again. So I stood there. I struggled to untie my boyfriends belt from my closet bar, and it felt like a sign to stay there and try again, like I will stay stuck if I don’t get it done. I couldn’t. And I am ashamed.

[helpme225]

I thought I knew what was wrong with me. I do not. Yet I do. I just don’t know help. I don’t know. Again. Lost. PTSD will destroy you. Yourself. The way I am . I crawl inside my head and I’ll never feel a breeze in here.

I’ll never stand up in here, I am closed in. I don’t remember much. I know why I shouldn’t smoke. Maybe I like being scared.

Maybe I should leave to stop the shaky feeling. I am never going to do right. I will run, I will do what I want. And I am sorry. Should I stick with you and end up dead? Shouldnt I sacrifice that for my only family left? I didn’t make myself this way but I always knew what was happening

[helpme225]

you think you know what kind of girl you want, and i made myself her since the day we met,

yet now you’re tired?

we have the same issues, yet you’re tired of mine? you think you’re better because you wouldn’t give up your life so easy, but you’re not. it’s enough you don’t even listen when i explain why. why i am hurting. i see light, i promise, and for a second in every suicide there is a better feeling. but you, made someone, made someone with no family, friends. or morals. but i let it happen.

[helpme225]

i see something in you

you keep me inside, but you know you can’t keep my quiet.

you know you ruin it, and i’ll cry, and you’ll wait for it to be over so you can do it the next night. and..

what do you want of me

what do i have?

you expect more of me when i’ve shown you every corner of all i’ve got. and it was never much. u could look at the girl i used to be and know i all i did was lose, and ruin, like you.

[helpme225]

i had cotton mouth the morning u rpdd me. whats permission when it’s the 5th round of this? i was wanting it a hour prior. but he is not done and i am numb in the legs. he is pressing below my knees down. i try to roll, i cant move. and now i think of recently, his bare chest in the light, his stomach i love cuddling up on, if he wanted to do what he’s said, he could, and i would be helpless again. i looked out the window against his bed trying to forget, forget now and when it’s over. its hard to breathe. should i keep moaning in between saying stop so i don’t hurt his feelings? or does he not hear me when i say it hurts? maybe he thinks i’m just putting up a fight, but i never started to cry this way. i never pushed his arms this hard, resisting. his eyes stay locked on what he wants to do. he doesn’t see my face, but for a second he’ll glance at my leg to position his hand in holding me still. he stopped when i pushed his chest. i felt like the guilty one.

[helpme225]

i like being anyomous. i also can’t really spell. im just here for practice. to wonder and speak to get back my brain. the girl i was. around two years ago. i say i hate who i was, but maybe i miss her. maybe i miss being dramaless, wearing whatever big size i wanted, listening to music, free in my friendships because they weren’t that serious. my friend group was holding onto who i was. slowly letting me slip away because i was no longer like them. and i wasn’t suffocating. it wasn’t hard to type. the one thing i liked about myself was that i could write anything, in the tone i loved. in the tone i could never find in a single book. or maybe i just liked the library teacher because she was the only one who cared. she still saw the change in me, and just like my old friends, drifted. now i am just cornered in the hallway when i try to pass her. she asks me if i’ve eaten, because i look thinner. i look lost. i am unable to speak to her. and she sees it in my eyes. i no longer ask for specific books. i no longer even go into the library. but it used to be so easy. no one needed anything from me. i didn’t have to choose sides against people i just want to stick around. my mom wasn’t home, i could do what i want, and i had my dog. and i wrote and i loved it. and i was a girl. but i was 13. and someone always has to come into my life when they see me bare-faced and free, and take that. take my time, my energy. i drifted. i was scared. i was lost. it wasn’t meant for me. but a boy wanted what he wanted and i didn’t know how to love so eventually i hated him. i found love after him, and the second i was labeled his girl, something clicked. i didnt value my friendships, i was disrespectful, and i was entertained by people hating me. and there was barely a whole page written by me during that. but he didn’t touch me in school. he didn’t expect anything from out hangouts, he just held my hand in his and i didn’t have to kiss him. i wasn’t afraid to sit next to him. he didn’t feel like a stormy cloud. i felt like someone, i loved it. i loved talking and listening and having a opinion. but then he left, and i had no one. and he came back, and left, and created someone else, came back, and still says i don’t care how i used to. how i don’t care enough, but i do, just not in the way he thinks caring is. he wants me crazy when he leaves the house, he wants me to worry and get upset at him for smoking with out me, because that would “show i care.” it’s not. it never was. it’s suffocating. i dont know who i am. i dont know who i created. i just know i hate myself. the way i dont fit in. im not loud enough, my laugh is too quiet and the things that would have my brother folded laughing, doesn’t even make my bf chuckle. he doesn’t laugh at my jokes. he says he’s going to kill me. he walks away and makes me choose between him or my ride home. i dont understand how you could do that. i am just 15. i need a ride home. i have to say what i said i am going to. i cant ditch my friends for him and it’s what he wants. he doesn’t understand. he lets me cry. he doesn’t tell me goodnight when we’re tg. he plays victim, i cannot tell him what he’s done wrong or im going off on him. so we will never communicate. he is stubborn and mean to all of my friends. he expects me to walk out of their house the second he’s there. but he is sweet when we are alone. i dont wait for it to be over. he treats me roughly and i have to learn not to beg for what i need. like he is training me. i dont like it but he will rest his forehead on mine when he gets over it. he will look into my eyes and kiss my face. he will hold me and tell me he loves me. he’ll laugh w me and treat me like i’m pretty. he says sorry and i believe him. its one of the only times he’s sweet, is when he is sorry. and if that’s what i’m holding onto. i used to be myself. now i am just a part of him and he is of me. he’s just as attached to me. and i am not enough. he is not enough. and the only way out i see is suicide. i tried with his belt the night after we broke up. i might :(