I know you are tired of love poems too

Here i am again trying to convince you that i don't fall easy, that when i fall i don't "really" fall.
But I do, and i don't ever know how to get up and once I'm down they just keep kicking and screaming
"Was he worth it Susan? Was he worth the long fall?"
I'm afraid of heights so i would rather not fall again, thank you. Plus the soil isn't too bad and one day i will be under it, why not make friends with it now?
I don't know how to say everything i want to say anymore.
I can't say or write anything right, my lips don't know how to shape a smile, my hands don't know how to stop shaking, and my eyes just don't know how to look at him without loosing parts of my heart every time.
All i ever wanted was to feel weightless, i wanted to be a normal teenager who never had to run from things. And if i did it was just from the cops.

He has got me so tangled i don't know even know where to begin to unravel myself, I'm a teenager who has fallen and who can't get up to save her life,
I'm a girl who wakes up every morning having to convince myself to just walk through the door and who closes her eyes just to try on clothes or do her hair.
I'm a girl who can't move her fingers to write without having him on her mind.

"Is he worth it Susan? Is he worth the flooded insides, the foggy mind, the worthless love poems?"

No matter how many times he falls apart i will always rake up the pieces.
And no matter how much blood stains the rugs i will always replace them.
And no matter how much damage his monsters make i will always pick up the glass.
And no matter how many scars mark his chest, his thighs, or his heart, i will do everything i can to match them.

I wish i could express how tired i am of writing love poems.

So
     tired.

I know you have heard this all before, 

                                                              

Susan Atkins. 

I have this belief that all men and women should be able to love whomever they love.

Gay/lesbian/bi sexual, it's not a choose. 

You let me know when you can fool your heart into loving someone you don't.

They can come a thousand times

with their burning matches and their gasoline,

with their hungry laws

and their empty mouths full of prayers to that god

who greeted me at his gates with his throat full of trumpets

and his tears full of shame

as his trembling palms collected the cinders 

 of his children's crime.

-Andrea Gibson.

If this offends you, i'm so sorry. 

Your parents should have raised you better.

This is as simple as it gets

Would you like to know the exact way to take care of your heart?

Well if you said yes, you came to the right place.

I think it's about time people started taking care of each other’s hearts and their own.

Step one: Drop that cigarette, you are too pretty to burn and honestly your body doesn't need more fire dear.

Step two: Make sure you tie it to something stronger than kite string; you better damn well make sure it's tied to yarn made of the golden plates and nothing less.

I think our hearts are worth yarn made out of the golden Plates.

Step three: Never give all your heart.

If you already did, take that person to court; win custody.

Take this from someone who cares, someone who gave all their heart and lost the custody battle.

I have always been a test subject for love. 

Your heart is made up of every decision you make and will ever make; who ever said it's your brain never had a heart,

and

YOUR

heart is made up of a million rhymes and every romance language ever spoken.

It's made up of every moment we never spent together and every second we did.

It's made up of glaciers and insomnia.

This is for all the kids who were smart enough to seek an instruction manual on love.

This is for the hundreds that died from a broken heart; your ashes were beautiful as they flew through the air.

This is for the couple who can't love each other without fighting each other every night.

This is for the "I love you because the way you sin."

These steps should not be taken lightly.

One day when you get a chance to share your heart with someone you will thank me for these simple instructions.

Because I know that he doesn't want to die alone, I don't care how many times he tells me he likes being alone,

and I know he never wanted to lose his heart and I’m so sorry I didn't get to these instructions sooner lover.

Please forgive me.

I wish I could have saved you before you drowned in her sheets.

I wish I could have saved you before you sailed away in her ocean eyes.

I wish I could have saved you.

Bleeding for you always,

                   Susan Atkins 

I'm not as strange as this sounds.

It's not that i like the silence, it's just that i don't know how to speak without disappointing; I'm never able to say what i want to say without sounding like a complete freak and no matter what i say it wont satisfy you anyway. 
I don't want to say that you have a hold on me but ya do. 
It's not that i don't like people, oh wait. I don't. 
Let me phrase that better, let me try to not be as socially awkward for you. 
Trust me, i have days where i wish i could leave the class room of the Creative Writing teacher during lunch with out giving 100% of my attention to NOT having a panic attack. 
I wish i could go out and mingle like all the other (in my opinion) "socially awkward kids", how do they do it? That is what i call being socially weird. . .mingling. . .
STANDING IN THE HALL AND TALKING. 
I have places to be, people to avoid, music to listen to, books to read. Thanks for the mingle offer though imaginary friend. 
I would like to dedicate this to Mr.  Nelson for putting up with my awkward conversations; I'm sorry, i just get lonely some days and i just want to talk about ANYTHING. 
I would like to dedicate this to the other "socially strange" girl (Note how i said "Socially STRANGE", I used strange because it's not that she can't talk to other people it just that other people can't handle her coolness)
who sits with me in the Creative Writing teachers classroom offering me food and strange conversation.
Thank you. Without your food i would probably be starving during 4th period and without your conversation (this applies to you too Mr. Nelson) I would probably be talking to myself, well more than i already do. 
I do have days where i wake up and wish that i had all these awesome, indie, super cool, super hip friends, but most days I'm happy with what i have. 
I wish that we didn't have this devastatingly short awkward conversation that went like this:
"Oh! In November i get to go to a mortuary to do a shadowing opportunity, I'm excited."
"Ew."
I forget that people don't say that, plus you didn't let me finish my sentence
So I'm gonna finish what i was gonna say. 
"Oh! In November i get to go to a mortuary to do a shadowing opportunity, I'm excited. I want to get the bodies ready for their big day, that's what i want to do with my cosmetology licence."
Oh. . .wow. I guess that doesn't sound any better. At least i tried, right?
I wouldn't have to have a conversation with the dead and if i did they wouldn't say anything back and that way i can sing whatever song i have stuck in my head that day, they can't do anything about it. Really. 
I wish i can be human comfortably so i can make friends comfortably. 
I fight my reflection every morning when i look in the mirror, which is ridiculous because i cant "really" fight myself without winning and loosing every time. 
People are always telling me "You have really good eyebrows." 
My eyebrows are so crooked i want to just wax them all off. 
People are always saying "Your eyes are so pretty! Are those your real lashes?!"
My eyes are so big i feel like a creeper, im sure when i look at you you'd think i was totally creepin', i ain't though. I only creep on very few, and trust me you didn't make that list. Sorry. 
I feel like as i go on this blog post is just turning into another socially awkward thing, so like i said in the beginning
It's not that i like the silence, i just can't say anything without sounding like weirdo; let alone write it.

This is to you weird kids. 

With all the emptiness in my chest,

                                                                                                    Susan Atkins.


P.s I'm not OCD, the fact that my pictures wont all center is just killing me.

Here am I

I am an empty vassal floating on everyone elses cloud nine, beyond those clouds are thunderstorms. They just don't know it yet.
And I have told you several times before, so please don't make me point to my chest again and yell "NO ONE LIVES HERE ANYMORE. Sorry to disappoint."
I can't remember the last time i laughed so i hit my funny bone against the corner of my desk this morning just to make sure i still had a funny bone somewhere in my body. I don't, it didn't make me laugh it just freaking hurt.
I miss childhood a lot sometimes, even though i hardly remember any of it.
I wonder if that's why i miss it so much, know one had to rely on me, i was young and carefree.
Im done pulling feathers outta my mouth in order for you to feel weightless.
Im not your savior and trust me im far from holy.
Plus dear these ravens only have a limited amount of feathers in the first place and now they're bleeding.
That's just it, they are just bleeding inside me leaving my boots heavier than then were before.
Im trying to make myself like people more and animals less but you can't tell a christian God doesn't exist.
And you sure as hell cant make me pray to an invisible force.
So please world consume me, pluck me from every colorful feather i have left
because i was born naked anyways
SO BRING IT ON APOCALYPSE.
i may be empty but im stronger than i look.
I fell a long time ago and dear i keep getting up.
I have been chased by monsters the day i left the womb,
but you can't take my poetry when i have it burned to every inch of my body.
They can't kill me without killing themselves.
So please don't make me listen to your apology one more time,
You know less about love than i do.
The more you speak the more worthless words become.
So please don't tell me how you love me because sleeping with her was a terrible way of showing it.
I don't deserve to be treated like that.
We shared everything together and i realize we shared more bad than good, but it was all i had.
I am so close to having the whole world in my hands, i got it all besides the most beautiful parts.
So uh,*coughs, clears throat* Shit um, Hughston, i know you have heard it before but please just love me back.
Because i was wasting these feathers on the wrong guy.
And god knows she was wasting you on the wrong guys.
So here i am world, break me down.
Tell me I can't do it.
Bring it on monsters!
Tell me how im not pretty every time i look in the mirror, because I'm done being sad.
I got more potential than you think.
We except the love we believe we deserve and I'm not saying i deserve the best love but you know what world im better than what he showed me.
I am infinite.
So Im cutting open  my chest and im letting these ravens free, im done falling because i already picked myself up and i hung myself by the stars so i will never fall again and i did it all for him a long time ago, Im taking off these boots and im walking across the ice and if i fall through you know where you can find me.
The Apocalypse has nothing on the scars i carry.
and yeah, I am jealous of the world most of the time.
How to world can grow something beautiful out of something so ugly, I mean are you kidding me we have forests from decaying bodies and fecal matter.
We have lakes that come from know where and hide so many ugly things
That's what i have been trying to do for years.
But now im letting the ugly out and im letting it fill the entire city because i have been carrying way to much ugly on my shoulders, it's about time i share it with something with too much beauty.
I'm here world.
Can't you see me now?
I was nothing but a wallflower but now im fighting off these monsters until they realize i can create as much as they can destroy.
I'm here world.
Drag me to hell, but just know that i have already been to hell many time and i drag myself out every time and i always take a piece of something better, something more beautiful than what i had before.
So come at me world.
Push me through the fire, drag me through the streets, stone me words, skin whats left of me,
because i will always get back up and i will always get back up with me middles fingers in the air yelling
"Is that the best you got? Because it's gonna take a lot more to destroy an ocean. And my body is an ocean.
 So bring it on."