Tonight's just one of those nights.
It's Cinco de Mayo. Everyone on Tumblr is denigrating the very celebration of this holiday, because we white people couldn't understand it.
I skip past these complaints to the photos of needles and oreo cakes, dope and the sunrise.
I'm only 2 weeks single after 4 years of on-and-off bullshit with my pair of 2-year boyfriends. I'm starting to think my boyfriends' expiration dates will always be a solid 2 years. It's everyone's fault.
Honestly, I'm just wondering what the fuck's wrong with me, because after 2 years of possibly the worst relationship, during which I was threatened with death half the time, I'm already looking at other men and reverting to my teenage years of giggling at the cute ones.
I'm only 20, so maybe I can cut myself a bit of slack.
But there are the cute wannabe dealers:
the thugs with too many tattoos and a tendency towards retail theft.
Why do I always go for them?
Why do I always smoke with them?
I fucking hate them
But they're me, a part of me.
The part that wants to love something so glamorous and so false.
These men are just as dangerous as the drugs.
They're so kind
I'm using them
And they're fucking
Using
Me
I'm drunk. Can't you tell?
I'm high on heroin, can't you tell?
I have so much pain inside me
my blood will pour out
And the texture will always be BLACK TAR
Because I can't function without the absence of pain.
And without knowing that I belong.
It hurts
But I'm just a girl.