Here's to all of you

Here's to all of you. 

Here's to you the one who puts their disorderly parents to bed and still has to call that place their home, here's to you the one who's dad hired prostetutes and didn't think twice when hitting his wife, here's to you the one who's friend's above and there's not enough drugs to replace that hug. Here's to you the one who's father's dead and that thought doesn't sit well in your head because it's just not true that he's above comforting you, because all you feel is the left over pain of watching your mother cry in vein. Here's to you the ones with dark eyes and thick thighs, girl you don't need to apologize. Here's to you a failure to your father because you never finished his high school dreams. Here's to the ones who still miss their ex's and here's to the ones who continue to pretend they don't still care. Here's to the ones who will never be like their brothers or go on missions like their sisters. Here's to the girls who spend a grand in making themselves look like someone they think is what people call beautiful... Here's to the ones who see people for who they really are. Here's to the ones that know what really matters and it's not how much your outfit costs or how perfect your skin is. Here's to the ones who need attention but won't ever admit it. Here's to the high flyers that turn into the sky divers. Here's to the dead mothers and the suicidal brothers. Heres to the day time sleepers and night time thinkers. Here's to the ones who are terrified to end up like their fathers. Here's to the orchestra players. Here's to the insecure boys because yes, that's a thing. Heres to the ones who pray for their mothers. Here's to the bell bottom wearers and clock starers. Heres to the nerds who make friends off sharing homework. Here's to the risk takers and rule brakers. 

Here's to all you seniors, good luck out there.

nostalgia

i remember the pretending to be hurt so the doctor at primary children's would give me my favorite sparkly silver bandaid

i remember my bothers head always shaved

i remember always hating my oldest brother

i remember looking up to my sister like she was my mother

i remember telling my mom about my first kiss like it was last week

i remember having parties at my house like everyday was someones birthday

i remember when the whole neighborhood would always hang out at my house

i remember my siblings friends always sneaking out to come night swimming at our house

i remember when the tooth fairy was real

i remember putting my dog in a box with the lid on and my babysitter freaking out for hours where the dog was till i remembered me and clara sorensen put it in a box and i still haven't forgiven myself for it to this day, he survived, died of old age

i remember when my lab got out and we lost him saddest day of my life

i remember riley hannemanns tea party in 3rd grade

i remember always being the little girl who played flag football with the boys in 5th grade

i remember the first time ever falling in love and still convinced that it could never happen again

something to get off my chest

i guess this could be an entry of confessions but that'd take way too long

but this is something i think of every time walking into class

and nelson you mentioned it a few class periods ago, my brothers name

storm

i just want to thank you for the only thing that got my brother through high school and through all the years of all that he was going through, it was your class that kept him here

every time logging onto my blog or walking into class i all of sudden get writers block

I've finally figured out why

and its because all i can think about is how you and your class are the reason my older brother decided to stay and thats a lot to think about how much it all impacted his life

 i just wanted to say thank you nelson for caring about him when no one else did because you saved his life

the story that still doesnt make sense to me

while i was living in california i got put in a freshman class and one day got pulled out by the security guard to go switch out of it

long story short I'm in the counselors office arguing with my counselor how i am currently in my junior year while she continues to ask me where my junior year transcripts are…

after the pointless argument as she still continues to think I'm a senior, i go outside and my lunch was stolen….

the "big" reveal

hey its natalee gray 

the junior in your class who talks too much or not at all

mostly just some loses

I wanted to trash my journal and delete my blog as soon as possible because ever since this class I haven't been able to write like i used to, but nothing to lose right so ill just keep them…

i could've just wrote all my poems on time to get the credit i needed

i guess thats what i should've done

i also really need that extra credit but the book hasn't grabbed me yet so i keep putting it down

i guess i just need to stop taking this class so personal

i don't know

oh and one last thing nelson, I'm not texting in class, i just have lots of drafts in my phone to say the least but for some reason never get my self to actually post them so sorry if it looks like I'm texting, I'm actually just writing

Fear

my biggest fear or at least i like to think it is

 

Nov 28th

You were the drug I never regretted
And the happiness I never had.

However, you are not the one I call mine.

But you changed my entire life.
I'm not who I was because of you.

But there is no way you are the only one for me, although you are certainly not the one to forget.

Here's to the Broken ones (crayons)

Here's to the broken ones

The ones that always get left behind

Always forgotten and never remembered.
       

Here's to the broken ones,

To the ones that don't need fixing,

Here's to you.


The picture wouldn't be the same without you.

Just Like The Sky

We are just like the sky,

satisfied after a long cry.
Moody and awfully terrible at deciding.

And just like the sky you cannot please everyone.






And that's ok.

r o bo ts

 When I was 17 years old I started changing with the seasons.

 My body and brain slowly rusting over once the winter started approaching.

 I can't tell myself I'm not a robot because all characteristics but physical are matching up.

 The ink bleeding onto this paper make up for the tears that have yet to leave my eyes,

 And my tongue constantly being sharpened, by the thoughts that are instantly being turned to words, with no sorry to follow.

 I still have yet to show you I'm sorry.

Maybe one day once this rust fades away.

A Time Where Things Could've Been Different

    We're all fools

everyone of us,

every oppertunity in hand

yet we still wish for things to be different,

to go differently,

to be different,

Every opportunity in hand.

     No more wishing to live in another generation

no more of the trash names labeling us because our generation is 'stupid'

'no good'

'worthless'

'a disappointment'

    This is a time where things Can Be Different 

this is a time where we are free to express ourselves.

                      to our generation:

we have points to prove

goals to achieve

and time to succeed 

because this isn't a time where 'things could be different' anymore,

It's the time where things are different 

and endless chances to be great,

you are no disappointment, 

This is the Twenty First Century with every opportunity at grab

Not just yet

Mama's drunk but certainly not off love, cause papa's not home and brothers' depressed along with sister, she's in distress.

I'm going to make you proud mama I promise,
 and now i'm thinking to myself, when?

When will I make her proud?

But I will, I swear I will, it's coming mama don't you give up on me too, not just yet.

I'm almost there, I'm so close mama hang in there please.
please,
please,
please!
That word has no meaning to me anymore.

I'm sorry,
im sorry
im sorry

That meaning is gone too. Because i've wasted them all on you. I don't mean those words when I tell mama anymore but I truly did mean them when I was telling you.

So I need to say it one last time,
Can you give me my heart back? ....Please? If you do then I could leave you alone.

(saying the title after every question in this poem, will answer all the questions)

At 17

At 17 I've lived too much.

I have loved more then I ever thought was possible

and have had enough heart ache to fill a chapel of worried sinners, worried that their new beginning won't ever be coming, but still believing.

Thankfully i've had my second chance at life, I could tell you it's already screwed but i'm still here at 17 so that has to mean something. 

At 17 I could've been the greatest already, even 16 or 15, well I sure was at 14 but nothing ever counts then anyways right?

That first kiss you've had at 14 won't mean a thing until you're in love at 17, standing on you're porch knowing that first kiss is coming. 

At 17 I found my person but at 17 the timings all wrong.

At 17
At 17 i've been to far too many funerals and have missed far too much school.

When you're younger you always dream of being 17. But at 17 it's never really what it seems.