Tears rushing down,
the truth comes out.
A thorn bush attacked me?
as if that could be the truth.
Everyone asking me, why I did it,
and for how long,
so many questions,
in such a small amount of time.

The flash back begin to reappear,
within of my once positive mind.
I scream,
I feel the pain,
More tears tremble down past my rosy red cheeks,
this needs to be done.

Back in the zone,
the stench of latex gloves linger,
bright lights,
unfamiliar faces,
“did I do the right thing?”
I take a glance at my artwork,
written in red pen,
it was all that was there for me,
any time I needed it.

Yes? No?









Sweaty palms,
Uncontrolled shaking,
To hear the word foster mom sends shivers down my spine.
Sleeping in a bed that isn’t mine?
A house full of kids?
I aint used to that.

The decision is final,
No turning back now.
Struggling to catch my breath,
looking back at the friends, that that are more or less family.
Blurred by the rain storm and the fogged up windows,
“I am sure going to miss them.
I cannot do this, I can’t.”
But I knew that I must.

Wondering what my parents think,
or if they even know.
I am not coming home tonight,
and have no idea when I will return.
I don’t have any say and neither do you.

Just have to roll with the punches,
and go with the flow.
Hoping that the decision I made










I will not later lament.