15

At 15 I had one shot (one real shot) to escape in my own right and I squandered it trying to prove a point!

I. wanted. out.

I know he loved me, it wasn’t enough that motherfucker was crazy. (He, yes he, specifically, tried to break me. It didn’t work. I’m still who I’ve always been. )

My Father laid into me about a singular dirty bowl in the sink.

I was ripe for it, a storm kicked up, and I ran off.

I was still not happy about bad weather then and the storm definitely fueled my step.

Should’ve just stayed on foot…

I will always regret not leaving the state then.

(It was the worst night. Followed by some Spartan shit. I turned green for a few days.)

I craved three things- security, peace and freedom.

I was smart enough to have them all,

And my Father was smart enough to fuck up my documentation so I couldn’t run.

I would have left.

That’s👏why👏He👏never👏taught👏me👏 to👏DRIVE!*

🎶Vroom Vroom bitches🎶

It’s just that a lot of the unforgivable shit happened at the end.

*For the record, I didn’t know anything until 19 but I’m a great driver. Nyah Nyah

I spun a Jeep twice without flipping it after a drunk bitch hit me.

I AM the getaway driver!