jake the dog (not mine)

photopost: stuff in my camera roll


my current daily entry journal. Shane gave it to me years ago and I just never got around to using it.


current favorite book. It's a collection of poetry and i've read it twice.

One poem ever other page. Easy read. This is my favorite poem. I cried. 10/10 highly recommend. This author made me feel things.


This is Artemis, Megan's ferret. She's still a  baby, and she's so cute.


here's a picture of the program I use at work. It's super difficult and really not up to date at all and I hate it.


Frankie and Sookie


Mom and David when they went on vacation


Damon at Starbucks the day he got his name changed.


three of my journals


Damon and Frankie


blurry Damon and a graffitied train

graffitied train

JoJo took this picture of me and it's probably the only picture I like of myself right now.

the adventures of kasey and pupperdog


cat in a blanket

we got a super bad storm a few weeks ago. Here's what it looked like from far away.

this storm system was right above my house and it was super exciting. Tornado sirens went off, although no tornado warnings had been issued. It didn't even really rain, it just looked scary.


JoJo let me play with her snapchat.



Lex took this picture of Shane after she received her diploma!


and we now have our own Netflix subscription. unimpressed avocado is me, Master Commander is Shane, and the small one is Megan.


here's the notebook that lives in my pocket at work. The cover is all sorts of screwed up because Logan really wanted to see what I was writing, and we ripped it. Orange sticker is there because I bought it at work, and the it means I didn't steal it.


never forget azizamanga knows me too well :P (everybody should download Miitomo, it's a great app. I'll definitely add you).


and my sister is the funniest person on the planet.


and my friend Katie knows me well, too. This is Haley's sister.


aaaaand Haley never fails to amuse me.


Haley, stop, you're sixteen


BOUGHT THIS THE OTHER DAY WHEN I WAS WITH DAMON. ITALIAN LEATHER. SO EXPENSIVE. I'M SO EXCITED TO USE IT.


current poetry/non daily entry/art journal/sticker collection.

downtown York, took this a few weeks ago when I was with Damon.

aaand here's all of my art journaling stuff. Lots of washi tape. Lots of stickers. Lots of pens.
  • Current Music: Hiding -- Modern Baseball
jake the dog (not mine)

contusions

I thought you had kind eyes.
they always reminded me of midnight skies
and I never once saw you cry until
you shattered yourself against me.
I tried being your friend.
it left a mark.
and your mother told me I was to blame
like my lighter held the flame that lit your fuse
and I refuse to let that consume me.
I see straight into the voids of your pupils.
filled to the brim with assumptions.
did you break your ankles when you jumped
to all of these conclusions?.
you're mindless, near sighted.
the reality that we go to all the same places
is why i left town a second time.
  • Current Music: Just Another Face -- Modern Baseball
jake the dog (not mine)

"talk to yourself on paper so they don't know you're crazy"

there is a tear in the cutain that anybody could be looking through
I've bared my soul, and I'm certain you were aware
Of the shades and hues of blue your rotted eyes devoured
and i know that nobody is on the other side of that pane of glass.
We died fast.
No eyes to pry me open anymore,
No last goodbye, i guess you're a face of the past.
no familiarity or haunting memories
just your voice,like a ghost or a memory,
i never realized this facade was temporary.
I don't break my bones and bend over backwards
for people who only shit on me.

**drunk poem
  • Current Music: Re-Do -- Modern Baseball
Tags: , ,
keep calm

surface cuts

lately, my least favorite part of being me is
seeing myself in the mirror and finding that I
look better than I feel.
I spend my nighs laying in bed
trying to decide whether or not my purpose is real.
I'm falling asleep at the kitchen table and
collecting mugs by the bathroom sink,
trying not to think too hard about this
sinking feeling
or the gaping pit that is my head.
My heart clicks out of place in my chest and I
spit it up onto my bedroom floor.
I'm treating problems like surface cuts
rather than exit wounds and I think about
turning my shoelaces into a perfect noose.
blood

tell your daughter to call me next time you try to fight her battles | 5 April 2016

I see myself in her smile when
i look at these pictures from high school
and I find myself hoping that she feels
this gaping void in her chest like
I do because it's the only revenge
that I am allowed to bask in.
This is bullshit, you tell me,
screaming into the receiver of your cell phone as
I, much like your daughter, shake apart
and crumble, but I do not matter.
I am a safety hazard, you tell me
as i remember all those times when she
would message me and tell me that she
needed me in the middle of the night,
and I would always drop everything for her.
You never knew that.
I feel the impact of a plane crash
on my shoulders as you tell me that I
am the reason she wants to die,
and to this day, I still haven't picked the
shrapnel from my gaping wounds.
And to this day, i find myself thinking too
hard about why all of my friends are sad,
because you've got me convinced
that it's me. I am the catalyst,
the monster hiding beneath their beds.
I am the earthquakes in their chests
that collapse the houses of their minds.
I am blood pouring from self inflicted wounds
and the perfect little knot in a noose.
I am stone cold tables in the local morgue.
I am only as heartless as you made me.

  • Current Music: don't call me at all -- flatsound
Tags: ,
pop punk

Snapchat


Just going to leave this here.

Even if you don't really want to talk to me on snapchat, that's cool. I post stuff to my story every day. Usually of my pets and my family. We try to make it entertaining. Add me if you wanna. I'll probably add you back.

pop punk

in which I am inadequate

I can't tell you why my
limbs are stuvk or why
my head wants me to fall
but I've got enough pills in
my pocket to kill this
sinking feeling.
And why would i think
that I mattered to anyone
That ever meant a thing yo me?
I am disposable.
Break me and replace me with
a better model like a shiny iPhone Six Plus
because I was too full of broken
pieces to mean a thing to anybody
Forget my name like you forgot
yourself when we were together.

blood

answering machines

did i ever tell you about the
dream i had in which
i call your phone
a thousand times in the
middle of the night?
the static eats away at my
eardrums before it gives
way to a recording that
reminds me that you're dead
and it doesn't make any sense
because you're saying, "hello,"
and, "how are you?"
and i want to tell you that i'm
a piece of shit without you.
you say, "call me if you need anything."
you say, "i miss you."
and i try to leave a
message at the tone
but there's too many words
stuck at the back of my throat
so I call you again
because you said to call you if
i needed anything, but i only
need you.
you say, "hello,"
you say, "how are you?"
and i want to tell you that my hands
are shaking because winter
never ends now that you're gone.
you say, "call me if you need anything."
you say, "i miss you,"
I say, "i miss you, too."
a machine answering a machine
i try to leave a message at the tone.
i tell you that i've got one foot
dangling in a grave at all times now.
i am not safe
so i call you again.