I desire to let go of the past and embrace the future. I fight against the ties that tie me there and hold me in place. But they won’t relent. I have a sinking suspicion that they never will.

My mother reminds me everyday what trouble I was.

It’s nothing but a burden and baggage that I don’t need.

How am I ever supposed to change if no one will let me forget?

But they all ask me, “How’s your heart?” Wht do you want me to respond? “It’s shriveled up and dying. Thank you for asking.”

Right now, I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. But if I have any hope of surviving this, I have to get away. I have to go somewhere where I’m more than just a story people tell their kids to keep them on the straight and narrow. I hate it. I hate having people know who I was and failing to see who I am now. They’ve boxed me in so tight that there’s no room left for me to grow.

I will not be spit out from His mouth. Not if I have my say.