When I was 12,
That was the first time
Someone told me I wasn’t good enough.
All I can see
Is the “room for improvement” 252 more words
And I feel it. I feel, feel, feel so little yet so much.
How did I get here. The feeling of my hair in the wind during this cooler-than-normal Baltimore summer where I sip a Pimm’s Cup and I drown myself in the next glass of wine or beer or gin or vodka, and I stare into the eyes of someone who cares. 191 more words