December 7, 2013
My name is Alex and I am sixteen years old and homeless. My parents kicked me out because I had a pregnancy scare. You see, my parents despise sex before marriage, they think it’s dirty, immoral, and ignorant. I don’t understand though, I’m not pregnant and I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, so I don’t know why they kicked me out. But I don’t care, I don’t need them anyways, just like they didn’t need me.

December 9, 2013
It has been nine weeks since I have seen my parents face. They are the ones who kicked me out, I didn’t kick them out, so I shouldn’t care whether I see them again, but I do. I miss them so much, I want to wake up to my mom’s…  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave, you can’t just live on this bench. I don’t think you want me to call your parents. They won’t like to hear about this.” “ Okay, sorry officer, I will leave, but let me tell you this one thing, there is no point in calling my parents, I don’t have any to call.”

January 23, 2014
Sorry about that cut off, that fucking police officer said “I had to move because I was living on the bench”, but I had only been there for TWENTY FREAKING MINUTES! It’s okay now, I’m going to be living down by the beach until I am eighteen, hopefully… (Twenty minutes later)

I wrote a poem today and I really want to share it with you.

The waves are crashing on the shore and I feel every salty tear splash on my toes. I wish my tears didn’t have to become part of someone’s day.I hate everything that has happened to me in the last couple of months and I just want it all to go away. Maybe, I can get a second chance, if I try to kill myself, I can possibly be put into someone’s body and I can start again. I don’t know though, it’s just so hard to walk by the shops on the boardwalk and look at yourself and see every tear all over your dirty clothes and then remember why you stayed the night at his house.

I know it is bad, but every since I started living on the streets, this has been the only way I’ve been able to breathe.