I now smoke Marlboro Red 100's

But I have a black Bic lighter, not a cherry red one

When I cry from missing you, I light one up

The tears stop. My hands return to their normal steadiness and not their angsty shaky state

 I inhale the smoke and watch the end of the cigarette burn bright. I breathe in so deeply that I almost cough

Almost.

I exhale through my nose and a strong chemical smell overwhelms me.

It kind of smells like chlorine, but I'm not sure if that's even in cigarettes.

I wouldn't be surprised, though.

 

My throat feels a little scratchy and sore.

 

It makes me want to sing.

 

Instead, I normally just take another hit.

Chain-smoke until I feel like I'm gonna vomit.

You'd kill me if you knew I did this. But the smell reminds me of you. Reminds me of home.

 

I have to do something self destructive.

I'm cutting again.

I remember telling you when I was 3 months clean. You looked proud.

I'm throwing up my food, too.

Honestly, I don't know what you'd say to that.

I don't know what I would, either.

Probably, "you know, you can die from that."

And I'd respond with, "you know, that's kinda the point."

I would cry, and that would make you cry.

I wish you were here.

I wish you'd give me a dad talk and tell me to stop smoking.

I wish you would tell me to stop cutting and purging.

I wish you'd see why I do it and hug me.

I wish you could be here to care for me.

But instead I'm stuck with verbally abusive and violent parents

I'm stuck with a brother who is not to be trusted because I don't know if he'll try to rape me again. I mean, everyone comments on how similar his girlfriend and I look.

They think it's innocent but it's not.

I wish you could fucking save me from this unpredictability, xxx.

I need stability and support and love.

 

 

I need you.