Wed, 05/28/2014 - 21:11 -- arb021

I remember being 13 one time. 

I played Bright Eyes all afternoon, 

and actually cried. 

A beautiful girl told me that she 

thought of me more like a brother,

that was the biggest problem, 

I had. 

It must have been nice,

feeling and all.


Now I can't breath, and

i'm not sure if I mind.

I want to feel the burn of

fresh winter air as it quickly 

pases through my lungs again. 

I want to believe in God. 

I want this not to be all.


I want this to mean something, 


I'm afraid I won't do anything better

than the things I have done. 

I'm afraid I peaked at 13. 

Hit middle age at 18. 

I'm a fucking old man. 

I'm afraid you were the best I can do. 

I'm afraid I pin all of my problems on

things I can't control. 


I wish my friends were my friends. 

I wish I could go home and my sister wasn't a fuck up. 

I wish my mother would figure herself out. 

I with my dad had a job.

I wish for a load of things.


I'm going to get another 9 to 5

Settle for a girl in a blue collar town, 

I swore I'd never live in.

I'll sit in my garage and drink

cheap NASCAR beer until I forget

my former self. 

Every night. 

I'll have a kid or two.

I'll try to raise them to be better than me. 

They won't be. 

I'll act lke I'm not disapointed. 


Then I'll die. 

Guide that inspired this poem: 


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