How am I supposed to fit for eternity?

The longest time I've ever had a best friend is one year.

One whole year of being a best friend with someone, that a really short time to be with someone when I remember that im supposed to be with one person for all of eternity.

Relationships are over rated,

how do people expect me to be best friends with someone for a whole eternity?

Like even if it's not eternity, even if we're only married for like 50 years, that is forever!

My parents have been married for 18 years and they don't fit anymore. 

Married at 18 years old my mom didn't know who she was, she's different now she's figured out who she is and what she wants and that doesn't seem to be my dad. 

I think that people should stay in each others life's until they no longer fit.

How do you expect people to fit together for eternity?

My parents don't fit anymore but what's holding them together is me and my three siblings.

My parents stay together because they think it will be easier for the kids.

But me watching my parents not love each other?

That is not easy.

This may be a really horrible thing to say, but sometimes I wish they would get a divorce.

Because I want them to be happy, and they don't make each other happy.

They don't dance in the kitchen anymore, they don't mean it when they kiss.

They probably don't mean it when they yell either, but they do that anyways.

It's been so long since I've seen them dance in the kitchen that I've forgotten what intimacy looks like. 

Memorize what connects my lungs to my heart

I once knew a guy who could tell exactly how I felt by the way that I would breathe. 
I don't think he could do that anymore, I breathe different now. 

Fourth Period Thoughts

They say it takes 21 days to make a habit.

But I haven't carved into my skin for 365 days now. 365 days and during fourth period today I felt the sensation, the urge, it said:

"bite your fingers till the indentation on your skin could identify your dead body 15 years from now"

"Scratch your skin till it looks like the red moon everyone awed at last month, they thought it was beautiful, they think you're not”

What color is the moon with out the sun or without the earth casting her shadow on it? What does she look like all by herself?  And how do you figure that out?

"It will make you stop feeling"

"It will slow down the anxiety"

But then there's me, telling myself:

"No"

"Just find something for your hands to play with. No wait actually you need to put that rubber band down right now. It's okay, just put it into your back pack"

"Get your hands away from your mouth!"

"We are ok,

we are ok,

I am ok,

it's ok.

Alice, You are O.K."

"Your fine"

"Your fine"

"Your fine"

"Your fine"

"Just breathe, everything will be fine"

"Try to focus on the lecture, it will distract your mind"

"Sit on your hands"

"Just close your eyes. Breathe"

"In, out, in, out. Why does the kid to my left keep asking me questions. In. Out. In. Out.         It doesn't matter who's looking at you. In, out, in, out, inoutinoutinout. It's okay"

"You don't need to ask to go to the hall, you will be just fine"

"Grip the chair, distract yourself, but try not to look like your going insane."

"Today is your one year mark, don't mess that up"

365 days, that just over 17 times the number of days they say it takes to make a habit.

365 days and today was hard. So was yesterday.

The Bricks That Built Me

Eleven bricks for almost dying at nine months old

Thats when I decided I was a fighter.

Six bricks for the broken bones

Thirteen for the broken hearts.

Five hundred-Thirty Two bricks for each time I was molested,

Seventy-Three bricks for each time I cried about it.

Five bricks for the right rib cage that is lazily sloped to my center,

Eight bricks for the left one that takes a sharp crashing curve towards my lungs.

Twelve bricks for the shallow breaths,

Seventeen for the shallow thoughts.

Two bricks for each friend I left,

Fifty-nine for each friend that left me.

Seven more bricks for every day I was alone,

and six for every day I wasn't.

Nine-teen for every unkind word that slipped out of my mouth,

One for every unkind word that slipped into my ears.

Eight bricks for every time I hurt myself

Twenty-one for every day that I didn't.

Two for every boy I kissed,

And one for every boy I wanted to.

One for every city I've been to,

Five for every ocean I swam in,

Nine for the braces, 

and eight for the glasses.

Six for every picture I took,

Sixteen for every picture I drew.

Ten for every time I danced in the rain,

Twenty-three for every time I danced with my dad.

All these bricks and you were my keystone.

1. key·stone

   [ˈkēˌstōn]

   NOUN

   1. a central stone at the summit of an arch, locking the whole together.

Calloused Heart

Maybe next time my heart breaks it won't hurt as bad, because it's harder to hurt things that are calloused. 

How Long Boarding Is Like Loving You

These Things Are How You Make Me Feel

Like the whole spectrum of color and light, sometimes its exploding inside of me, sometimes its exploding just out of my reach

Like running through a field in slow motion

Like there are cities growing inside my chest

Like the way my mom feels at parades and sometimes the way I feel at parades

Like a California subway station whether empty or full

Like a campfire up the canyon 

Like when your underwater and realize how quiet it actually is

Loving you is like driving down Suncrest too fast

Loving you is like bowling, but sometimes i’m the ball and sometimes i’m the pins

Like trying to clean up raw eggs off the kitchen floor

Like blasting music in my car, sometimes its nice, other times it gives me panic attacks

Its like night time in the rain

Its like kissing in the rain

Its like I am the rain, and I'm just falling

Its like exploring a foreign country but occasionally its like moving to yet another house that I will never call home

Like getting called on in class when i wasn't paying attention

Like having one card left in uno then getting hit with a draw 4 card, it sucks, but sometimes it doesn’t, because i was trying to let you win anyways

Its like wearing your favorite shirt and staining it

Its like the universe when someone doesn't appreciate the immense perplexity of it, 

i’m usually the universe

Like the moment you tip your chair back too far

Like the time I tripped down the stairs with a spoon in my mouth and it got shoved to the back of my throat

Its like getting a zero on a math test when you were expecting a hundred, also, its vise versa

Its like you planted lovely flowers in my lungs, they were nice for a while, but darling i cant breathe anymore and their roots are digging into my chest 

Its like the freedom of riding your longboard down a hill, but its also the speed wobbles, its also the terrifying moment of stepping off and cascading toward the ground, tumbling till your lying sprawled out on the asphalt, breathing heavily and heart pounding. Its the road rash and the ripped jeans and the headaches. Its the telling your story over and over, its the bandaids, its the scars that fade but never enough.

I Had To Replace My Zipper Again

My heart is broken. 

It's been shattered, torn out, trampled on, soaked with tears, stabbed, and sewn back together. 

73 beats per minute, give or take a few.

The words you said did not carve into my heart and pass through my veins, although, that's what it felt like. Really, it's just an organ and it cannot feel in that way. 

My heart is not literally broken, but I think we like to name the pain and know where it comes from.  Because when we were little and our mom asked where it hurt, we would point to the scrape on our elbow.. So now they ask "where does it hurt?" And I point to my heart because it feels broken. I point to my brain because it won't stop rattling off depreciating thoughts and memories of us. I point to my lungs because I cry so hard I can't breathe. I point to my stomach because it's tied in knots. I point to my blood shot eyes. I point to the hands that won't stop shaking. I point to my soul because everything feels wrong without you here. but I'm grateful I don't have to point to my wrists. 

I think we're all waiting for someone to read in between the lines. And in between my lines it reads HEARTBROKEN, it reads LONELY, it reads DEJECTED, it reads MISERABLE, it reads DAMAGED. But it also reads STRONG.

So if my heart is not literally broken then why does it feel like there's a hole in my chest?

When you left it's like you ripped out my zipper and I can't put myself back together now. All I'm left with is useless zipper teeth and broken threads, but there's a gaping hole that reminds me of when you decided I was no longer good for you. And do you know how to fix a broken zipper? You have to remove it, thread by thread pulled out of its bearings. My first thread was changing the background on my phone so it was no longer a picture of us. The second thread I pulled out was changing your contact name to just your name and taking off the heart. The third thread was taking all your stuff, putting it in a box and dropping it off at your house.

And you know, even after you put in the new zipper, your still left with Dozens of pin holes where the threads used to be, and you have the raw bleeding scars from where you put the needle in over and over to pull the new thread through. And the first time you zip up the new zipper, it kills, you go slow because your scared it might rip out if you go too fast. But you zip it, little by little, it reminds you of the pain of the whole process, but mostly it reminds you of him leaving.