When I was 1, my mother and father got into their first argument. When I was two, my first baby brother was born– he looks just like mother. Still does. When I was 3, my last baby brother was born– he acts so strange and he’s the luckiest one too. He almost died twice, but an angel is always there to save him. When I was 4, my father moved out and my mother was finally free from his tyranny. When I was 5, my grandmother smiled because she caught me in my first lie. When I was 6, my grandfather passed away– I cried for a whole week… or maybe for the whole day… time is an illusion, yeah? When I was 7, I burned my grandmother’s kitchen down. She covered for me. When I was 8, I made a best friend at school. The next day he was another kid’s best friend, so I cried about it. When I was 9, my grandmother from Vietnam passed away. My mom cried that whole month. Time is still an illusion. When I was 10, my mother still hit us. When I was 11, I questioned my existence. Why am I here? When I was 12, I told her to stop hitting us. She called the cops on me. They said I didn’t do anything wrong. Case closed. When I was 13, I got my first heartbreak. When I was 14, I smoked my first blunt. When I was 15, I popped my first pill. When I was 16, I was single for a whole year. When I was 17, I met a smile with poetry written all over it. When I was 18, she broke my heart. When I was 19, I started to smoke a lot more. When I was 20, I was so damn lost. When I was 21, all we did was fuck. When I was 22, she said that this was enough. When I was 23, I dropped the razor. I’m 24 now. I wonder about 25. I chase after 26. I’m in love with 27. It gets better.
theartofmadeline
amandla
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
yousharknotpass
