Daddy Issues

let's examine the root of my daddy issues.

let's explore the stem of all these problems and we will find that I should've taken it as a sign when everybody sent me flowers at my 3rd grade dance recital. 

everybody but my very own dad. 

he planted the seed that developed into, well, me. but he never stopped by to check in on my growth and never once did he remark on the beautiful person I've grown to be. there must've been a drought or something because never once did he send a drop of water my way, not that it matters. 

never once did you care to show your face at my school plays, or award ceremonies...or parent conferences.

bedtime phone calls felt more like business meeting conference calls, where i did deals with a voice over the phone that I rarely saw, you tried to buy my love but the economy must've been bad because your money has no worth to me. 

chasing paper was the only exercise you've ever done. you ran away from the life you created when it all became too much, id like to think I get my ability to run from you, dad. 

come to think of it, you should've been an Olympic athlete, because I've never seen somebody run faster than you did when faced when parental priorities, wow. there's a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line and wait for it! I'm going to be the one to place it around your neck. 

I think you owe me an apology, not that it matters anyways. 

it would've been nice to have you when I needed you but, nothing's ever easy. I filled the gap of your absence with boys that reminded me of you, boys who ran when faced with commitment. boys who use their hands to destroy instead of create. girls love boys who remind them of their father. 

And, don't even get me started on Father's Day. what a bullshit holiday, am I right? you threw away my cards and somehow, the ceramic mugs always ended up shattered...I guess that makes two things you've broken, doesn't it?

empty promises so big they make the Grand Canyon seem like a sidewalk crack, but you wouldn't know anything about that would you? 

that's right, I forgot you don't take responsibility for the chasms that you create and abandon, you're like an artist who finishes his work and always neglects to leave the watermark scribble in the bottom right corner...I'm glad nobody sees you in me. 

I got the lucky end, I don't look like you at all and thankfully, I don't act like you in the slightest. I mean, it doesn't take much to be a decent human being but, this is all news to you. I know. 

I am done with second chances because by now, the burned bridges are nothing more than charred remainders of the  singed photographs of my childhood. I think of you, sometimes. you pass my mind several times a day, but only when I'm smoking menthols and I get to watch the warm little flame transform into cold, gray ash. I think of you here, because you watched the same thing happen to me. You watched the tiny, glowing flame that you created burn out, and you watched as I became the cold, gray ash; fragile and dirty, a reminder that the light at the end of the tunnel is likely to burn out too. Where is there to run when the light burns out, when you are faced with the darkness and destruction that you have created? 

Flowers don't bloom in dark rooms. Flowers need light and warmth. I guess that's why I'm attracted to the flame of the lighter everytime I feel the need to burn one down. Here, I find the light that I need, the one you never could seem to offer.

Maybe, dad, the light at the end of the tunnel isn't an omen to believe better things. Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is going to spark the addiction that will destroy me. Maybe the light at the end of the tunnel is a train. 

blurred lines

vodka chillin in a bottle on the console

console me. tell me it'll be okay 

I know it won't, but I wanna hear it anyways 

today was a rough day. nothing is clicking in my head the right way

which explains the 6 menthols I just inhaled, I know you fucking hate the smell

I know you hate what they to do me but truthfully, they calm me down like vyvance never could. 

misunderstood little punk filled with the spunk and angst of 5 Pete Wentz's,

we all been through this 

it's just taking me a little longer to get through it. 

I would never drive drunk, I'd just pass out in a parking lot. it's hard to park the car when I can't tell which lines belong to the parking spot

just kidding. I've never driven drunk, I always pass out on the bathroom floor.

I used to close the door but that was then and now I don't care anymore

I'm on a downward spiral like somebody finally flushed the toilet. wanna hear a secret? oops, I just spoiled it

"you look just like your mom" I know

and I drink like her too. I'll swallow that with a shot for me and follow it with a shot for you. 

bottoms up! I'm staring at the bottom of an empty cup. where did all the gin go

ooh shit, I know I've never been this low 

listening to the music but I can't remember how the lyrics go

so, how was your day? I mean I guess it was okay. is that what you kids are saying nowadays?

has-been who never fit in decides to reenlist in school because she wants to try again. try again 

it appears you're out of lives. 50 cents to give it another try but why? 

it's not really worth it. have you ever heard this before?

déjà vu. this is the exact same shit I was telling you a month ago. where'd the time go? time flies when you pass it with shitty rhymes that are filled with poor reminders of the past. 

boy, I'm past that point. 50 points to the winner, take a seat at the dinner table and pray to God the clear eyes worked 

I'm working late tonight, that's a lie 

I'm chillin at the park flipping dime bags  and trying to get high 

that's pretty much my whole life on the line, 

heart rate bottoms out and the beep turns to a steady whine 

turn it off, please. the death of me is old news. it's not even on the front page

remedial stage, new age poetry 

I'm ignoring what you're showing me because it's not what I want to see 

it hurts me to know that you care because I know I'm going to let you all down, I'm coming down 

I'm filling up the bathtub with the water I intend to drown in. 

face down, and I'm frowning of course 

cheer up buttercup, the worst is yet to come 

you'll never get to where you're going if you don't remember where you're from. 

renegade

my name is Katie, but you can call me renegade

by definition, betraying principles is kind of my thing. 

I'm so real I'm fake

I'm the snake in the grass, biting your ankles as you walk past me

feel the sting? it'll fade soon enough, sorry kid. life is tough 

but you have to choose to be tougher, beat the very thing that is beating you. it's okay to let your light shine through. 

this too shall pass. the path to being "okay again" will be rough and bumpy 

but you will make it through. I promise. 

there is something bigger hiding inside of you, your ribcage contains the power to save, and I can see it 

please believe it, I need you to let me in. 

open up the doors and tear down the walls, eventually it will all fall into place. 

you see, recovery isn't a race, set a comfortable pace and you will succeed. 

soon enough you will achieve the peace you have been dreaming of

and it will be sweet. you will soon be feasting on victory and you will taste the triumph in every bite. 

please don't get things confused.

it's just been a bad day and 

it's just been a hard night

fight to see the light at the end of the tunnel because damn, 

this is a spectacularly beautiful life. 

the end

Instagram sensation, constantly fighting the temptation to go off the deep end.

I'm a one hit wonder, and if you wonder why I feel this way, it's okay 

I couldnt expect you to understand it anyways

there are galaxies trapped inside of me

and I constantly feel like I'm going to implode 

ticking time bomb, who knows when I might go off again 

tick tock, boom. the galaxies are now

a full fledged splatter that paints every wall of my room

cool, I've always been a fan of modern art

hang this up in a museum somewhere

the words "till death do us part" 

visually pleasing aesthetic, please tell me you'll never forget it

I thrive on the thought of rememberance,

like...remember when I was okay? 

rewind to a time when I wasn't dependent on behavioral medication and the contemplation of bad behavior wasnt really my thing?

I can dig it. I promise I'm not trippin because I know my laces are tied 

I can't fix this own my own please believe me I have tried to come down from this high 

I'm trying to escape but I burned the bridges i need to use to find the fire escape in my mind 

regret

it's the bittersweet craving at the end of every cigarette I smoke, 

the concept of knowing I might never know who I am 

the acceptance of the fact that I may never fulfill my part of the whole plan, maaaaaaan. 

welcome to the beginning of the end

relapse

"dude relapse is so 8th grade" 

then I'm just in time because I'm always late

wait 

"did you just admit to relapse?"

well perhaps 

I did. what's wrong with that?

recovery is a process that's one step forward 

and 2 steps back 

did we get so caught up in the idea of being "okay" again 

that we forgot how long it truly takes to win 

a war 

and by "we" I mean "me" because the other night I had to be reminded 

that becoming "okay" is not an immediate process 

"like wow, can't you get over it already?"

I am getting over it, slow and steady

isn't that what wins the race?

why should my recovery be any of your business, anyways?

did I ask for your opinion 

to begin with?

I didn't think so, but since you need to know

I have been feeling not so good lately 

and it's not the kind of not so good that is going to make me 

vomit out the contents of my stomach,

but more or less the not so good feeling that can only be felt 

in the cavity where the contents of my brain are held

and I'm not exactly sure how to ask for help 

"find some ways to relieve your stress"

like what? I already know what is coming next:

you can write or paint pictures or maybe even hang out with your 

friends?

ah, but my friends all have friends who are more important to them 

so I guess this is where the tables turn?

read all about it: a crash and burn scenario 

where I play the procrastinating protagonist 

"oh my god, where are you even going with this?"

well, miss, writing is a hit and miss 

kind of thing and I think you are missing the total meaning behind my seemingly meaningless narration 

of the frustration I am currently fighting the temptation to release 

nobody promised that recovery would be easy or sweet, 

but I expected it to be simple and neat-

a one and done completion.

I was not prepared for the sloppiness 

isn't that obvious? obviously nobody is 

I wasn't aware that I would have to walk the road alone 

"just shut up already. you can handle it. after all, you're almost grown" 

but since when does my age make me less prone 

to facing the problems I have never been able to solve?

we need to be more honest with ourselves and everybody else, to be quite honest 

"dude, there's nothing wrong with relapse"

perhaps we could try something new for a change?

by we, I don't just mean me this time 

because the time has come for us all to realize how real these battles are

my friends tell me that when they drive they often consider crashing their cars

and honestly that's not even the worst part

because I have been in their shoes so many times before 

we all have nooses hanging behind our closed doors 

so maybe, that's what I'm being a "nuisance" for 

"sucide is the second leading cause of death for ages 10-24"

one in 12 of my friends will attempt to end their life prematurely 

so I guess relapse isn't so "eighth grade" and I'm making the decision to be brave,

because I am not ashamed anymore.

"recovery is a process that's one step forward and two steps back." 

you seem like you've been doing okay lately? 

yeah, well, it's good to be back. 

the happiest person in the world

I wish I was better at showing you
that you make me the happiest person in the world.
It would be nice to not have to write these shitty poems
as some makeshift apology every time I fuck up
because I know it's getting old, and it's getting on your nerves
just like I do more than I intend to, honestly
So, here goes. you make me the happiest person in the world
there is nothing I wouldn't do to make you smile
and it crushes me to know that tonight,
I'm the one who wiped the smile off of your face.
If only I could find the rewind button
so I could fix the mess that I keep making
because goddamn it, I just can't get it right
I want to give you the world
I want to see your eyes light up with a happiness
that no one else has yet witnessed
I want to be the one you kiss goodnight
and wake up to every morning; I dream of it.
the bed is too big without you dreaming beside me
come home. come home to me
fill up your side of the bed and kiss me goodnight
Mitchell. you are the most beautiful person I have ever known
holding you fills me with the most overwhelming sense of joy
and loving you is my greatest achievement.
there aren't enough apologies in the universe to fix the perpetual mess i make
but i'm trying. i'm trying with every ounce of my being to make things okay.
i am trying with every part of me to make you as happy as you make me
i am trying to make you the happiest person in the world.

drown

I'm drowning in the dark, cold water

and I'm freaking out but the harder

I fight the farther I sink 

I'm not actually sinking, I'm just standing at the kitchen sink

my mom has been talking to me for 20 minutes I think 

and I can't recall one thing

she's said so far, it's not that I'm not listening 

it's just that admittedly,

I have problems that are more important than what we are eating for dinner

my own thoughts are feasting on my self-esteem 

but nobody knows because I have good grades and I keep my room clean

I keep quiet and I hide it 

I keep it all inside, I throw myself into the lion pit

get bit, try to escape as the blood rushes to my head

it's hard to win a fucking war when I can't get out of bed 

I can't even get dressed

but I guess you're right, "it's all in my head"

it is. that's the problem, I can't solve it

x marks the spot and I'm no pirate

I need more than crumbled paper to make a map of the mess in my brain

picture this: a splattered me, death by train-- 

peaceful. 

30 mg a piece, glass-half-full kind of people 

don't see things the way I do

I think my glasses are smudged because things aren't looking up,

please don't interrupt, use your manners

I'm drowning here. the least you could do is call for help.