I was 15 years old with trails
of white powder dripping from my nose.
I was 16 and never saw a sober day of my life,
I hid behind bottles of whiskey and ***,
bags of molly, and vials of kitty.
I was 17 and growing tired
of this life.
I was 17 and knew this
wasn’t who I was meant to be.
I was 17 with friends and
a pact to move to California and make
something of ourselves. I was 18
and kicked out of my mothers house.
I was 18 and living with a best friend.
I was 18 and found out they
were doing ****** and ****.
I was 18 and sick of
all the lies so I left.
I moved to Socal where
I surfed couch to couch till I
climbed my way to the Bay area.
I was 19 and lost.
I was 19 and went on a 2 month
road trip with my best friend and a guy who tried to ****** me.
I was 19 and
looking for myself. I made it
to New Orleans and back with only losing myself
more. I was 19 and fell in love
for the first time. I was
20 and met a boy whom I never
sought out to show me how to change myself until he broke my heart for
the very first time. I was
20 years old and let him enter my
tunnel heart like the yellowbird he is.
He made it out alive but for a second I didn’t think I would.
I did. I was 20 and
finding myself. I was 20 and getting myself
together after a broken heart.
I was 20 and I found myself for the first time.
I was 20 and no longer wanted death for my birthday
I am now 21 and fearless.