I woke up to the sound of this: "DESTINY GET YOUR BUTT OUT OF giường RIGHT NOW!" I dragged myself out of bed, and walked into the hallway. "YOU HAVE A BLOOD TESTING IN 45 phút AND bạn BETTER BE READY IN 10!" She yelled. I walked back to my room, and began to put my clothes on. I pulled out a pair of dark-wash jeans, and pulled a white t-shirt over my head. Then, I put on a magenta cardigan, that cut off around my hips. It was my favroite bài viết of clothing that I owned. I walked to the bathroom, and sat down on my stool, already tired-out from having to walk all the way across the room. I got out my tooth-brush and put some toothpaste on it. I brused my teeth, and after about 2 minutes, I washed out all of the leftover toothpaste and spit from the brush. Then, I pull my long, wispy, brown hair back into a ponytail. That was the one thing that my disease had left alone. I put on a pair of $15 boots I had gotten from Target a năm back, and walked down the stairs. Nearly halfway down, I tripped on a box of pictures I made in kindergarden. I fell, step after step, until I reached the bottom. I screamed, and my Mom came rushing to the scene. I was ok, I guess. I just couldn't get up from the spot I fell down at. So my Mom helped me up, and get into the car. I sit in the passenger's seat, tiếp theo to my Mom just in case. We arive at the hospital in 13 phút time. When I was being taken back, I saw a farmiliar face on a bloody, bruised, and burned body. I couldn't tell who it was at first. And then it hit me. It was my Dad.
I write what i feel and try to
make them seem so-real to
you, but all bạn want from me
is honesty.
as i write out the facts
bạn act like bạn don't really
care where my tim, trái tim truly is.
Let me tell bạn where it
is, it's in the honesty of my
poetry, deep inside my tim, trái tim
it's the only thing that reveals
the emotions deep down inside
my soul.
as i hold onto the emotions
that creates honest thi ca
that i write, i see bạn looking
at my private diaries understanding
who i want to be.
bạn look at me and bạn
seem to know what i'm
feeling as i'm revealing
to bạn the emotions that
comes from within my
soul.
as i hold the key to this
honest thi ca that i compose
bạn seem to believe every-little
detail that i have to say to you.
make them seem so-real to
you, but all bạn want from me
is honesty.
as i write out the facts
bạn act like bạn don't really
care where my tim, trái tim truly is.
Let me tell bạn where it
is, it's in the honesty of my
poetry, deep inside my tim, trái tim
it's the only thing that reveals
the emotions deep down inside
my soul.
as i hold onto the emotions
that creates honest thi ca
that i write, i see bạn looking
at my private diaries understanding
who i want to be.
bạn look at me and bạn
seem to know what i'm
feeling as i'm revealing
to bạn the emotions that
comes from within my
soul.
as i hold the key to this
honest thi ca that i compose
bạn seem to believe every-little
detail that i have to say to you.