i hate my life a blog by bonnie

you are so stupid
you silly girl
for telling him
your plans to be
thin

i’m watching you through three
computer screens and wondering
why you’d ever do such a thing

now they will attempt
to force october bread
and february fruit
down your throat

with later in mind
the whole time:

it’s not going to stay in you
for long.

they’re telling you help
through pamphlets and
therapists

i had a therapist once
and told her all my
problems laid in how
i’m bored.

they tried to help me
but as i said
i don’t need
it anymore
so they left;
there was nothing to help. 

i’m going to help you keep this disease
i will
i will make sure you keep this disease

if you eat
i have toothbrushes
and if you
ever need
a razor
or some pills
i have 32

let’s win this thing before they find us

when you turned 21
you were supposed to ring

but through the years you
lost my number
and fell in love
with another girl

you weren’t supposed to do that

i cannot ignore curls in
hair anymore without
thinking of you and your
bruise
by your elbow
that you told me about

we were supposed to grow old together
on a farm
with eggs on toast in bed
and forehead kisses
and four kids

i’m sad this will not happen now
and silly for imagining so much
and how did i ruin us
yet again

when all i wanted
was to be your friend

i miss you my darling i love you i miss you 

we sat silently side by side
but i could hear emily calling
for everyone inside

you turned one of your fists
in your palm and i tugged
at the sleeves of my skirt

you said
i regret never kissing you
all those moments i had
the chance to

and i didn’t know how to
respond
because i couldn’t even
multiply in 10s

i was only child when i first met you
and you were just as i
and your backpack was full of gadgets
and no love notes.

it was sad
i told you
because i really did think
we could have been rather
great

i mean
i continued
i felt so sad when i saw you kiss jane
in that room, and i left in a state of
gloom

and you found me
and sat in the bathtub with me
and darling i loved you then

but all i have now
is a pathetic moment
where i saw you once
last month 

there is a rope between me
and her and
you and her
and i’m anxiously anticipating
the next pull you make
misplacing a thread

because dare i say, i have made
my bed
i have surrendered my weapons
but if you dare ruin
how far she’s ran
i will strangle you with pacifists hands
(however, in this case fighting for freedom).

you have ruined
much
just by speaking up
and every time i’ve heard a mention
to your god damn ugly name
a sigh has been followed;
an argument ensued.

and i can see you lingering
you don’t hide your address very well,
and i saw you after coffee and toast this morning
i wanted to scream
because i do not deem you a source
of happiness

you simply make her
woeful
so please do not do
what i fear you will

and please do not speak
to me again 

i am too tired to say you are
pretty
because darling you are
but if you do not accept i’m
not willing to force

and please stop quoting your
depression to me
i have a three year old
and a drunk for a husband
i don’t need your boredom tonight 

if i have to cook one more meal
for your beautiful ass
for my disabled parents
for my lonely friend
i’ll go insane

darling you are a pretty girl
i love you
you’re sad
okay, alright, we’ll sort it out
another day
but i’m tired
and i love you sweetheart

can we sort this out after a nap? 

this is about how once i knew
a girl who said she could fly
but the moment she escaped
out of the 12th story building
on the 2nd night of her stay,
she realised she was about to
die
they all called her a silly, pathetic
measly boring girl who i know deep
down was just simply bored of
talking to adults every wednesday
and kissing girls every friday
and cutting skin every monday
because really that’s the way it
had always been 
but had she not always seen the
mark on her friends skin from
a boy she didn’t know had teeth
that were so sharp
she didn’t know
he didn’t know
and i did not know this girl i knew
was fond of poetry after noon and
hoping boys born in june would be
hit by buses
she used to write
WHAT A MISERABLE DAY
everyday to me and every night i’d
remember to reply back something
witty like

but then i’d remember i wasn’t witty
and i’d ask if she was alright

i didn’t get an answer until 32 days ago 

so stop telling me i am

I am deplorable
to you
and all that you have served
to live for. I cannot help
that I chose a selfish path
of torn lovers who made me
feel daft.

And I am feeble
I am a loser
I cannot be trusted alone with
her or otherwise I’ll be visited
by Doctor Jones again, and my
God he is a pain to my
chest.

I am heartbreaking
to you
and I have tried my best to get
over a silly crush but I cannot
even do that
because I am insufficient
for forgetting months.

I am miserable
lamentable
and I dwell on only the mean
and selfish things girls have
done and the poetic, loving
things boys have not
I say thank you to all those who have fought.

I am pitiful
dependable on others which
makes them sigh at my
relaxation in bathroom
bowls I can throw my
money into.

I am worthless
I accept

and wretched
I am very wretched
very bad
very awful

But one thing I am not
is pathetic
and I have been told it
by far too many people
my father
my friend
a boy who ripped buttons
off of my dress
and pathetic I am not
He is pathetic
but I am not
I am not
I am not pathetic 

Gay Sex

I like butter
And I like rice
And I like boys who
wear nice jumpers in
winter and girls who
wear nice swimsuits
in summer 

I love raisins
And cookies
I love monkeys who steal
ice cream in Spain, a boy
who once called me lame

I love how you’re pretty
hot
I wouldn’t say cute
or nice
or lame
You’ve got a nice bum
and nice eyes
and your hair always looks
kissed by the wind,
and I always see a bead of sweat
on your skin, and damn I have to wonder
each time
Where it came from
and please don’t think I’m cute
or nice
or lame
Because sure, I am
but just think I’m hot
because you’re hot
and I don’t want friendship
and I don’t want to think you’re a bitch
I just want a heavy make out session
followed by some hot gay sex
With a hot girl
who thinks I’m pretty hot too.

Forget feelings
they’re queer, I’m here
for you
For sex
for gay sex
Let’s have rough sex

We can tangle in angles
instead of revising mathematics
I’m going to fail
you already know it
and I already know
that we’d be great at sex
together.

We can have the feelings later
because I know they’ll come a time where we’ll wonder
Does that mean more?
Are we lovers or gone?
But how about we have sex four times
before we get to that shit

Because we’re getting older
and you’re not getting hotter
and I’m not writing poetic metaphors in the hope
you’ll love the poet in me

Just be hot with me
and have gay sex
with me!