pigs rule the world

it rained today.
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i went outside wearing nothing but my underwear and a long shirt. that had a smile on it. it took me the longest time to find some pants after walking so much i put on striped shorts with white socks on feet.
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it poured so hard i had no idea what i was doing. i had some pills in the small pocket it had thinking maybe i can go now. but i sat in the middle of the road instead. no cars came they were all alseep.
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i fell asleep on the wet ground of gravel on my driveway. something bit me i had blood on my legs memories flooded back. pain, then the tears came softly after joining the cries of euphoria i had calling out to hell to come and get me if that's what they want just make it stop.
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i think i slept with the devil because now i feel unforgiving to myself. i don't want anything from anyone. i don't want to live. i don't want these memories. i don't want to be me. our cars are stashed up in their cupboards under their freshly painted walls surrounding them. must be nice to feel fresh.
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mama saw me on the ground we had to clean up my wounds. she asked me and i said nothing in return. i started to cry and mama hugged me closer trying to make my pains go away. papa stood at the door frame holding his head down trying to think. i think i went insane.
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couple months ago i went insane as i could took all the markers i had made stories on my walls. made pictures, lists, wishes, imaginary friends. all because i wanted to get across my point. no one ever heard me unless i spoke up right and when i did i was told to hold my tongue. now i have carvings on my walls that i made. i still have marker drawn all over. i covered it up with white pure paint because i couldn't stand to see it anymore. everyones seen it. they think i need help.
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now i am here looking at the lust less glow in the dark stars i pasted on my ceiling. they don't glow anymore i painted over them. i wrote a wish on the back of all 100 of them i know no one will ever read them. but i know its something i can know is there. maybe those messages i carved into trees were just a dumb idea. but i needed to get something out. needed a way.
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now I'm tired feeling dumber than dumb and holding onto something i know i should let go. white socks are hanging from a line on my small tree in the front yard i know they won't dry if it rains anymore, but i never want them to because all the wetness they have remind me of my old memories. i want them to be this way forever. whenever it rains i am always out there recalling for 'us' she, he, and I. all of us i won't forget i refuse to be the one who forgets. it just hurts.
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white socks are living memories to me.