It's okay (it's alright)
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Your hands feel pretty clampy
Your forehead starts to sweat
I can feel your heavy breathing
I can see the hair on your neck.
I know that times are rough,
But even when you're stressed
Just listen to these words
You'll love what's coming next
It's alright, it's okay
I promise nothing here will change
You'll walk out with a smile on your face
Because everything stayed the same.
And it's okay, it will all be alright
No need to struggle, no need to fight
Because tonight you'll sleep tight
Your body is overheating
You're stumbling on your words
You're plagued with anxiety
A disease you don't deserve
I can see your dreams are nightmares
Mine are too
So let's sing this little song
And tell the world fuck you.
Because it's alright
Do not be ashamed
You're such a beautiful creature
A lovely disarray
It's okay
Our love will remain the same
Sleep well tonight my dear
And I hope we can cross roads again.
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I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.
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