a kind of sort of story

(i wrote this based on a book i read a while ago, and i really liked it, so...yeah)

i play with the cigarette in my hands, exhaling the smoke softly. all alone, alone again. alone with my thoughts and my cigarettes. i press it to my lips, my cracked, dry lips and breathe more poison into my lungs, because, hey, we’re all going to die someday, so it wouldn’t be so bad to enjoy myself before i go. the taste of smoke lingers on my tongue, like a memory, before i breathe it out. the world is eerily quiet up here on the roof. i dangle my feet over the ledge, cigarette dangling from my lips as i lean my head back and stare at the dark sky. there are no stars tonight. there are never any stars, not now, not ever, but if i could reach up and steal one, i would. all of my friends are happy, and i think i am too. i am happy. i wipe a tear from my cheek. i am happy. i pull my sleeve over the bandages. happy. how happy can i be in this town? that’s what i said about the last one. and the last one. just 16 and i have seen the world for what it is. i prance around, never taking my life seriously. never sleeping, because i tell myself i feel alive at night. holding a knife up to my neck as i dance around the dusty building to feel some sort of fear, but no matter what i do, it’s not there. when the world i spent so long building crumbles around me, i like to sit up on the roof and slowly kill myself with cigarettes. puffing smoke into the night sky. and crying. because that is what happy people do. they smoke, cry, and then move on by going to a new town, a new ending, and finding new people to f*ck over with broken promises and lies. all my friends are happy, happy because i left. they all found love and trust and warmth and everything that i have lost.  i have waited.  i have traveled across the country to find someone like you, someone who gave me that again, and im starting to think that i’ve always been the problem. were you the only one who could have gotten me out of this hole that i am in? my shoulders are shaking from the sobs that are racking my body, and i can’t wipe away all the tears. my love, my love, my love is all gone because you took it with you when you left. how rude of the angels i put my faith in to take you from me. how heartless. they took you, and no matter how many times my knees dig into the hard ground as i kneel down and pray, no matter how many times i scream out to the heavens, they will never give you back.

 

ivyparks

VT

15 years old

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