Sitting in a dingy shed
with dust covered chairs.
My clothes sticking to my skin
from hot humid air.
The smoke swirls around the room dancing,
against the black night.
Creating memories I cannot forget,
hoping we will be alright.

Allow me
to make my own decisions.
Let me
make many mistakes.
Walk alongside me
not in front of me.

quiet amongst roaring winds
broken thoughts have built within
an emotional storm pulls my soul
my weary eyes fill with smoke
and whispers fill my hollow bones
my body is battered and bruised
chaos is sure to ensue

I am not who I want to be:
I am someone I pretend to be.
I want someone who will see me.
Someone who will allow me to be,
the real version of me.
Someone who doesn't see
the faux flaws I've given me.
I need to be someone worthy of me:
someone I can be proud to be.