Laura's street
May's blizzard, Mother's Day is around the corner, and I am no longer in pink house arrest. Surviving neglect isn't all cracked up to be A survivor that it is.
I used to accept so little 'cause I didn't have much ahead of me, no one taught me how to live, how to take care of myself in the same way I loved the others. I could've drowned, the way life took advantage of it, I should've drowned, instead, I screamed and made sure to hide, and never again to be found.
Today, I took a bus ride, fighting for myself no one can be a victim of circumstances forever. I take myself to all the appointments they never took me, I am not afraid to ask for help, or demand that my needs be satisfied, otherwise, what are you here for?
I take the wrong direction, it always takes me a while to get on the right track.
I am in your neighborhood, and I never meant to but that's Lauras Street? Who is she? That's where you have been hiding since we were 19? She gave you structure, endless green, and architectural love.
The way things were, The way we were raised, The past goes right through me, it allows me to let it go.
I wasted so much time wondering what could have been wrong? Everything that it is. You never were going to be good, or good enough for me.










