My past is dark cloud so easy to remember. I remember the turn up days where it was ok to get and drunk and high making me feel like I can fly. Being a teenager​ screaming I'm grown I can do what I want and who I want. Tight clothes to show my flowing curves and goddess hips to make a boy trip. My past was my go to.... To numb the pain of this dry reality.... quick money that fast life is what I wanted. My counts of numerous of sins I did lay down broke into nothing walking by a deserted road thinking this is how  I will be nothing. Just another *** symbols that sells. My past is something I can't smile about or brag is something that can be dragged into a darker life if I dare to stay. Wondering when is my number called that call to freedom and peace laying down with older men is not fun which I thought it could be. If you guess this was me who would thought that I can see. Broken chains my past is past and that where I want to leave it.