henniebear@kua

Two doors, both locked, neither mine.
Two names, one I gave up.
Two voices, both demanding I choose.
A home is a shelter. A home is a question.

“Just grow up.” “Take your time.” “You won’t be a teenager forever.” Good, I don’t want to be. Always stressing about due dates, or tests, or studying, or the future, or absolutely anything at this point.