it's the lucky ones who never forget.

December 14, 2009
By nicole. BRONZE, Buffalo, New York
nicole. BRONZE, Buffalo, New York
2 articles 0 photos 2 comments

people sit to both sides of me.
im alone, they talk to eachother.
i feel stupid.
i wouldnt talk to me either though.
i wouldnt waste my own time on myself.
i wouldnt even look at me,
pass me by like i was nothing.
thats what i am, nothing. nobody.
thats what i would do, i'd walk away from me.

i hate sitting here with these people by me,
they dont want to be by me.
i dont wanna be by me.
the last bell rings.

i get up, i walk away.
walk through the halls.
i hate the halls.
i stare at the ground,
i see shoes pass me, thats all i ever see.

i dont look up.
i feel thier stares,
stares of those who dont know my name.
once they know it they dont stare anymore.
i hate there stares.
noyone says anything to me,
those who dont know me just stare.
those who know me walk by quickly.
they dont stare.
they know better.

i never was the kind of person who fixed things.
i'd try. i'd damn try my hardest.
people didnt want things fixed with me.
i wouldnt want to fix things with me either.

i like it broken though.
a million little pieces.
it cant break anymore then.
the peices are as small and scattered as they can god damn get.
i cant take it when its good,
i know im gonna break it.
i'll break it.
they know it. they expect it.

i know it. i expect it.

i walk. empty. step by step.
step by step.

i hate these halls.
i walk out of school, noyone cares.
i dont care.
i feel better being out.

i walk through the park, theres people.
the kind that any full grown punkass man would fear.
i dont look at them, most are drugged out.
i use to walk quickly by them.
i've relized i dont have to though.

i look alot like them.
i know im alot like them.

i know i'm terrified to be them.
i know there terrified to be them.

there clothes look like mine,
baggy. long. screwed up looking.
the circles under my eyes arent as dark,
but my eyes are just as blank.
my skin is just as pale,
i have more of it then them though.
there way to god damn skinny, so am i.
they want to get away from it all.
so do i.

the worst part of it though,
they all had families. even if it was just for a secound.
they all had mothers, fathers, family.
some have never seen them, but they had them.
they had family.

they lost them.

the worst though, are the ones that have families.
they remember there families.
their families remember them.
the ones who have daughters, sons, a wife, a husband, ex wife, ex husband.

the daughters who cry at night.
the sons who try to forget them
they never will.
the wife or husbands
once loved them with everything.
some still do.
its the unlucky ones never stop loving.

the people in the park never know what they lost.
i can see it. and even when they try to, they do something to forget.
my dad was the kind of man who sat in the park.
i think thats why i like it here.
most think that there better then these people at the park.
i know i am not.

these people can miss, love, care.
most of them dont though.
they only want.
hunger for.
their fix.
what ever the drug of choice happens to be.

im out of the park now.
on to the street.
the sidewalk.

its fall, i like the trees.
He makes me hate them though.

they remind me of him.
he took me and my brother around here when i was little,
we colected leaves that fell on the ground.
i wonder if he even remembers that.
he had a book that told us what kind of leaf something was.
he went to the libraries alot, he loved books.

he loved me. he loved my brother. he loved my mom.

he hated alcohol. he hated drugs.
it wasnt up to him what he could hate.
he needed alcohol. he need cocaine.
no mind over matter.

i think about him alot.
you never know how many things remind you of someone until their gone.
when their gone everything reminds you of them.
every thing.
every thing.
you cant forget what you love.
it's the unlucky ones who never forget.

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