Nineteen

Nineteen.

On November 14th, 2002, I, Ari, was welcomed into this ruthless, cruel world with pieces of humanity scattered around it.

I came in with a rough start. Having low pulses which lead to my mother having an emergency C-section while my father folded towels.

My childhood is a blur, but I had happy and sad moments.

My mother and father were interesting people and showed me what the real world was like at a young age.

Showed me how to be utterly cruel to someone and turning around and pretending like it never happened.

My mother was, and still is, absolutely gorgeous and I envied her as a child.

Thankfully, I took on her looks.

My father knew how to make money and used it to make up for his absence in my childhood.

Thankfully, I’m materialistic.

I was good in school, but the people at school weren’t good to me.

I learned how to manipulate and punch people in the stomach while giving them a hug.

Detroit kids ain’t no joke, neither are the suburban kids.

I can easily look someone in their eyes and tell them a lie with no mercy at all.

I can hurt someone and knows that it had to happen.

Someone has to endure it and it won’t be me anymore.

Now, I’m nineteen.

In college, transferring schools.

I have the potential to be a success,

The potential to be a psychopath.

I have the potential to mess up my entire life,

The potential to mess up someone else’s entire life.

I have the potential to be a horrible, disturbed human being who ruins everything they touch

At

Nineteen.

Happy Birthday To Me

There’s always a lingering sadness when my birthday comes around

“Hip hip hooray! Another year where I failed to kill myself and the emptiness grows larger”

She towers behind me all the time

Even when I think she’s gone, she’s there

There with her soft hands and smooth belly

So whenever I need to,

I can fall back into her and retreat into my pure,

Worthless self

When he grabs my hair and fucks me from behind,

I don’t feel anything

When HE grabs my hair and fucks me from behind,

I don’t feel anything

When she grabs my throat and kisses me,

I don’t feel a single thing

I thought it was because it was meaningless

I thought it was because I didn’t love them

I thought it was because I wasn’t in the right head space

But no

I have no sense of pleasure anymore

I do things to get a reaction

I seek pleasure

In things that don’t do it for me anymore

It’s draining and I feel broken

And I’m only 18

“Hip hip hooray! I’m broken and used and I’m only 18”