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If only it was that easy to leave,
pack up all the memories....
stuff boxes and boxes of pointless
material things and leave the past
like a pebble on the unmarked
road of life.

If only it was that easy to never
look back and keep your mind
focused on the future and
the possibilities.

If only it was that easy to not
follow in someone else's foot steps;
to not rewrite the past failures
of your family and to achieve all
you can be.

If only life was that easy; then maybe...
just maybe I could keep that smile
on my face for a reason, instead of
wearing it like a mask to show
everyone I will survive and
find my own way.

I was born alone
so I'm going to
figure this out
on my own.
This negativity in my life has caused me to believe I'm alone and can trust no one.
It has lead me to think I am a selfish teenager who is never good enough.
I don't understand these double standards that make me afraid to make mistakes.
These insecurities that make me feel like my opinions don't matter.
The truth is I find it unfair that I get labeled as ungrateful in my own home,
when every night I thank God for the things he has blessed my family and I with.
The facts are I 'm confused and full of anger.
I need this negativity to stop blaming me for things I didn't ask for and couldn't help.
I need it to give me some freedom to find my own way, and make a difference.
If only she wouldn't judge me I would be open to telling her all the things I keep bottled up inside.
I look in the mirror and see an empty, foolish girl who contains as much joy as a punching bag.
But how much more can she take before her grades start slipping and failure creeps in,
and the voice ringing in her ears before she drops comes from the women she calls
Standing there in the intensely chilled room,
trying to keep a straight face because if I
cracked she would know...
I was lying.

My mother the independent single
mom of three kids, who worked eleven
hours a day always kept a tight leash on me,
and the tighter it got the more I thrived for the
freedom that wasn't there.

Everyone must be willing to pay a price
for freedom... mine was remorse.
Remorse for being egotistical, for how hard
my mom worked and how I neglect the life I have;

Because I spend too much time
finding other people to blame.
To much energy finding excuses for not being
what I am capable of being, and not enough
energy putting myself on the line.

Freedom is the right to question and change
the established way of doing things.
I was not graced with this luxury.

In my house you do what your told, don't talk back,
and hide any feeling of frustration or anger.
I thought I was like the people in my books about freedom.
However their fight for freedom was ways more significant than mine.

They lied for their family and their life.
I lied for what I assumed I deserved.
But the trouble with lying and deceiving is that
my efficiency depends entirely upon a clear notion
that I, the liar and deceiver, wishes to hide.

Because the best liar is the one who makes
the smallest amount of lying go the
longest way.

Although freedom is not worth having if it
does not include the freedom to make mistakes;
it is better than feeling

the cutting air across your neck,
trying to keep a straight face,
because the last thing I want to do is...

— The End —