Charlie

My daddy left in the early morning and kissed me goodbye like he used to as a child.

This left me with a full heart and a restless mind at four in the morning. The only sedative that would work on me was a long, cold walk down my hometown road to help clear my mind and tire my bones. I invented an objective and set out under the dark cloak of night, letting the half moon guide my light.

With such a barren road to ride, my surroundings felt as hushed and intimate as the thoughts racing around my mind. I let myself get taken away by the warm lonesome nature of the night, only to have it get jolted back to reality by movement in the distance. As I got closer, I realized I ran straight into another stray. We both approached each other with an equal amount of caution, fearful of getting hurt by the other. Once we realized the true nature of each other, we soon became fast friends.

I kept screaming after him to get out of traffic and to leave old ladies alone. He kept coming to me and allowing me to pet him whenever I wanted him to stay away from the road. I finally found him some food, but when I turned around, I noticed he was gone. I continued my trek back home singing lana, only to have him come bounding back during the crescendo.

As we neared twilight and another intersection, he ran ahead causing yet another vehicle to skitter to a stop, but this time a man opened his door and let him in.

“Is that your dog?” I hollered at the woman driving.

“No, we just love animals!”

Thank you.

Blah Blah Bullshit.

You were in my nigtmares again last night. The one’s I never talk about. You always are. I can’t even make you smile in my dreams. You and another ghost from the past were yelling at me. I can’t remember who the other one was, and now that I think about it, that’s probably for the best. It was painful enough remembering you. Apparently, I was offending your lunch lady boss who earned your undying allegiance. So much so that you gave me a piece of your mind.

It felt so terrible to have you yell like you did. You looked so close to hitting me. I wish you had.

I wish you’d stop drifting around my mind so aimlessly. I wish you’d finally bury yourself under some forgotten memories and find your repose. I wish you’d stop rearing your sullen, grim face whenever I’m left alone in the dark.

Of all the ghosts and ghouls that dance around my mind, you’re the most unwanted.

Unforgettable.

Unforgiving.

I wonder how long this will last. Hopefully not as long as we did.

You taught me quite a bit, and I see you in the world around me. For that, I’m grateful, but at the same time I know that I have always been able to stand on my own two feet without relying on prosthetics.

I medicate.
I drink like an alcoholic and smoke like a chimney because I get so bored of depression. It’s so melodramatic and unflattering. I choose to take my own depression and swap out the prefix for a more bearable psychological state.

Keep your love short and sweet and close to your bosom. Because bosom is a funny word. And so is love. Hysterical.

onthewing:

suzy-carmichael:

xn—b6h:

catoverlord:

unclefather:

wassupstyles:

What if your giving a bj in the shower and he just starts shampooing and conditioning your hair 

very polite

i would do that

i’d be real happy with that.

that would be nice.

I honestly don’t know why this hasn’t happened to me yet

(via cuntflapsupreme)