Boo

I am from a tiny town, where I learned how to “rough it out.” Where I kicked the dirt and my dreams around, to conquer the whole world. My parents slipped me 50 bucks, some rolled their eyes, some wished me luck, but I’m still that girl. I like a challenge and I like to fly. I’m not always perfect and I’m not always right. When I go to weddings it always makes me cry. My heart is fragile, and I can be hurt. I can crumble inside at the drop of a word. But I can jump off a limb, into a river of change, because I’m finally taking back my brave. I kind of got lost for quite a time, and had to force myself to smile. I finally quit going that extra mile and abandoned my belief. I spend ours on the phone, crawling back into my “comfort zone”. Then I woke up one day and said “I’m not running home, it’s just not like me”. A couple inches taller, another size smaller, a little curl in my hair. I used to wish I was older, but now I wish I was younger, back when I didn’t have a care. Most of the time I am happy with what God gave me. Once in a while I wish that some miracle would change me. I’m okay with the way God made me. I have my days, but doesn’t everybody? It’s not always easy for me to believe in myself, but I have got to remember, I’m always going to be a better me than anybody else. My mama says I’m special, and calls me her little angel. In her eyes I could almost do no wrong. But I trip and I stumble, but I guess that’s what keeps me humble. I pick myself up and I carry on. I’ll never be a flawless model of perfection. Nobody’s perfect, and I admit I’m no exception.I'm a texting machine. Ask for my digits if you are not a scumbag.