Eighth Grade

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Its a small part of what my life was like at only eighth grade.

Submitted: October 19, 2015

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Submitted: October 19, 2015

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Eighth Grade

I am sitting on a swing that I have made of branches on the willow tree in my old backyard

I am in eighth grade

Not worrying about a thing

Not even my flunking grades

Swinging in peace on a swing that I created

I drink when I  am alone

I have a problem with drinking away my sorrow

I drink vodka alone in my room while sobbing over the words unsaid

I tear apart my skin with a razor blade that I have stolen

I fell of this anxiety free swing

And i'm still falling

When I don't cut I feel like i'm going to implode

implode

The feeling of imploding and becoming a black hole

A black hole is what I constantly feel like

Im sucking everything good and spitting it all out at the other end of bad

Floating in the air with no feelings, numb

Numb

I feel numb because I hold onto my feelings

Let them harvest into my crooked bone, into my broken heart

I wake up

Lying upon my couch in my living room

Staring up at the high ceiling

My eyes sting from the tears I try to hold back

That's what I have been doing for five years

Holding back

That’s what I have been doing for five years

Keeping it all inside

Inside is where I hide

I hide from people so they do not get another chance to break my already broken heart

To break my fragile bones

Im screaming out

But the walls just echo back my pathetic attempt at getting help

My dreams were my past

But this one I cannot face

By:Alexxis Jones

 


© Copyright 2017 Alexxis Jones. All rights reserved.

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