i guess this is it,
the synth track turning up
sun shine & sweat
bittered blood
bitten tongue
the amalgamation
of all i was
of who i was supposed to be

my mother won’t get any notecards
in the mail
my father won’t get a teary goodbye
i won’t get that deja vu feeling
that this was all it was for feeling

there won’t be scrapped knees
or twisted stomach aches
regret following me in twisted ways
shortcomings are banned from being
painted in my heart

this is it, summer
set free, everything,
of what i wanted to be
growing up from where
my soul was planted, 
away from the totality
of what was wanted
for me