Her dreams
So she sits back at her desk,
cracking her knuckles and back of her neck,
e-mailing a doc displaying her name on another application
explaining the main things things they should know
but the things that they don’t are the things that distinguish her as an adult
and over the phone she can never expose the role that she chose
the role in her home
——-
meh i’m only 22, and this song can already semi describe me.
i dont know whether to hold my head up high or be confused as a mofo
I may seem naive and if I told you i’ve experienced plenty in my life, you would probably roll your eyes at me and tell me i know nothing. Because i hold my composure well and i’m not the the type of person to flaunt my hardships. if you’d ask me i’d tell you, but i wouldn’t voluntarily spill my guts. I’m good because i want to be, because i don’t want to be one of them, and i refuse to allow experiences affect me negatively, and because i want to see all those people around me, watching me grow up waiting to blame me for why their child is messed up have this face when they see me succeed.
