Here I sit in a rundown apartment, in a circle of drug-dealers debating the proper use of q-tips, just a little fuzzy in my own world on 2mgs of xanax. I pondered the beautiful lies of this vast broken town, known exclusively for its notorious party nature. The slight smell of blue raspberry lingered on my lips from the tilt I'd sipped earlier, and my legs trembled a little from the way I'd danced at the party I was at before. Things weren't always this way though, one second I was reading biographies quietly in my room, spending a copious amount of time with my family..and in the next I was passed out in whatever position I was last in, my sobriety clearly not in tact.

Hello guys. I'm anon.

With shit for a soul, you're an ace in the hole.

I wasn't always your drugged up teen, in fact I never thought it would be this way. That's where I learned the beauty of change, when I was just 11 years old walking up to my parents Cadillac in the recreational centers parking lot, with my hands tucked under my arms. Dad rolled down the passenger window and Mom showed me a glossy book with flamingos on the cover. It said 'Florida' in blue lettering up at the top. "In a month we are going on a trip to go look for houses down in florida" she cooed. "Are you excited?" My brows furrowed in confusion, but I didn't really put up a fight. I was known to be adventurous, but I still think I took it so well because of the shock. It froze me. I was so used to living in that small little town that the thought of living anywhere else perplexed me. It was simply unreasonable. I'll never forget the haunting experience of driving away from my house, the way my fingers curled on the hem of my pants in absoulute distaste at the for sale sign. It was my house, and it always would be. Or at least, I thought so.


We lived in a small gated community for about 2 years, and I was in middle-school, which was my personal hell for the time I had to endure it. I was picked on a lot since I was the new girl, and I was quirky and different. 'flat-chested' is what all the 'popular' girls in class would call me, they'd taunt and tease me frequently, often with the false reward of friendship. I couldn't seem to put a finger on why I was always picked on. I always tried to be my nicest. Was it the way I dressed? Many days, I came home crying because of a small bullying incident. My parents were always furiously holding the phone calling the school but nothing was ever done, or could be done. As the year grew on I grew a more aloof disposition towards people.

I basically was a lone wolf through my middle school years. I sat with no one at school and wandered the hallways alone. Often, I spent quiet moments in the football field, watching the grass blades look like waves as they blew in the undecisive breeze.


inscript

You took me so quickly,
It wasn't something I could swallow.
Baby, it's in these broken dreams
in which I wallow.

Just let me hold you again,
so then maybe I can pretend
I knew all along where you've
been.

How does it feel
to wonder whos the last one
looking at you, wondering about
the last time you flew over the
blue.

I'll get lost in your tower,
maybe for an hour, rise and let
it fall past our lies. It's for something
you yearn, deceiving past our latest burns.

Feathers falling past tears,
all I've wanted for years lost in
the back pockets of queers.

I love being drug tested, it's my favorite thing. Really, you couldn't know the pleasure and satisfaction I get seeing the despair and disappointment plastered across my Mothers face. Friends often joked and laughed at me, because not even hours after the drug test I was already smoking another blunt. Drugs had slowly become apart of my body, but quite honestly..I liked it that way.

After detoxing with a drink from Condom Knowledge, I realized the drastic difference between sober, and obliterated. I took my first hit, and I was back in the fuzzy world I knew and loved. I swiped my tongue across my smooth teeth and smirked as the streetlamps reflected across my face. The night was dark, fresh and new, ready for me to make yet another mark. After a couple of sips of Mikey's spiked mt.dew we set off for Halle's party, it was supposed to be a wild one since so much word had gotten out about it. I stumbled into the beer pong room with a blunt in one hand, a drink in the other. I was wearing high heels that night, and surprisingly lasted the whole night without planting my face into the cold hard ground.