Save me from myself:
if i could tour the house i grew up in where would i start?  Maybe the driveway where as soon as i got off the bus i would hope my probation officer wasnt sitting waiting on me to take my routine urine test. Yes that was in high school i smoked pot and loved to drink but drink the whole bottle was the goal.
Racing out the door on a saturday afternoon still in my jams to go smoke a blunt with my boys around the corner then patently wait for the friend around the corner could score some "white Girl"(cocaine) so we could lace the joint and drink our bottle. I was the one who sat upfront with the dealer so I could score the ounce in his glovebox while he took a leak outside the car. when he realized it was gone he came to me begging me to tell who it was while not smelling it on me. I wish i could have seen the red flag then but that was just the sprinkles on the cake.
Before my junior year i was stealing my brothers ridilin to snort with our beer while we waited non our dealer to score some acid. At this point could i answer what salvation was? i could score any and everything before i got my drivers education course complete.
Maybe I would want to spend time in the room that became mine after my brother moved in with my mom in florida, there i tore pages out of the bible so i coud roll my blunt on the cover. this room was my quiet place my get away my salvation? it is where i would write short stoires poems , songs and love letters. i skip pass the room where i spent my 7th grade year in an hour for every class i had so six hours of my weekend each day i was supposed to focus on learning but what i managed to focus on was how much i felt unwanted, hated, stuck and when could i score one of those pills i had my best friend get from her mom for headahes. I had passed smooth out at the dinner table on axnax while i should have been eating dinner with my parents and my little sister.
Maybe i would spend time in the basement, if so i would think about the time way back when i was kicked out , homeless and i worked for my dad and he would take me to work and let me crawl through the basement window so that i didnt have to sleep on the streets. sad ? maybe because this was before i was even 19. i turned 18 in juvenile detention center where my father picked me up with my clothes in a trash bag and my last check. we cashed it and i chose the cheapest little hotel that i could pay weekly and threw my clothes on the bed and headed to dennys so that i could make tips for rent and i could eat at work. Sure it was fun at first but i didnt know God at this time and could jesus really save me at this point. i felt as if this was my eternal punishment for not following the rules at home. HAPPY 18TH BIRTHDAY YOU ARE NOW HOMELESS MAKE A WISH