Writing from back when....

So cleaning out my old bedroom at my parents house I found these samples of writing from... geeze I dunno, 7th-9th grade-ish age haha. It's weird to me that I was such an emotionally unstable kid, but it is what it is- oh and for the record... I never did drugs so I dont know why or what I was thinking about at the time I wrote the one about drugs... might have been a metaphor, don't really remember :)


The fragrance, and the aroma encircle me. Slowly I can taste the sweet, sappy taste in my mouth. It waters, my mouth that is, the sweet sensation fills my mind, my soul, my every desire in this body I inhabit. This irresistible taste is the sultry tingle of revenge, and Oh! How it controls me. My mind filled with thoughts of what I could do to enable my senses to catch another swooping hit of the fleeting moment of perfect vengeance. Sweet drug, fill me- evil thoughts? Yes, I know.

We live for the drugs- Hit to Hit.
After our highs the downs come in.
Come down, around, and sink-in-soak, sulk...
We live for the heights that reach us, though.
"Grasp us, hold onto us!" we beg but they go.
The good ones, the nice shit,
The down pressing down
Till again, we inhale.
Soak it in, seep it reach, hit to hit.
The hurt that we feel
No end in sight-
Sight to the sky, wanna be high
oh God, the high that you fly-
Let me fall just to fall.


         The smiles don't come as easy anymore. Warm fresh tears running down my cheeks have become a ritual every night, no fail. Every morning, awake alone again. Reflections stare back as I wash off sticky-salty nose and cheeks. Another day- beginning... without you in it. Another persona- to persuade everyone's belief that I'm fine. I'm fine. I can say it- I can't mean it, I can't feel it. I hate this routine, things were natural with you. Simple. Easy. Real... on my part. There were only two things that I had to know: You & Me.
         Well it's not that anymore. Hasn't been for a while now. You've gotten on with such ease. Me, I'm stuck, immobile, and paralyzed. I'm stuck here in tear stained letters, faded pictures and promises. Reading words that don't apply, wondering if they ever did. Memories scattered- on walls, in frames, to the back of my eyelids. Everything a reminder, every night nine digits dance on my fingertips. I long to press them again, speak words that you'll hear. How I adore you, always have always will. But I've tried. Not a budge, you're deaf to my pleas. It's hard to believe that was a little over a year now.


If no one ever knows what I've done
Then who is there to drag me down?
Again and again I hold it in,
Look at this web of stress I've spun.

There's no one close enough to trust.
This one knows this the rest will know that.
I'd like to get it out, get it open, be free.
I'm sorry though I can't it's just....

If only there were someone who didn't judge me like the rest.
Someone gentle, confidential, who could take this off my chest.
Oh, how I long to be able to confess-
But who in this world wouldn't judge me like the rest?

There are many a times I lie flat on my face,
The strength to get up sometimes forgetting to come.