This Long ass road to Glory

I've been homesick for about eight years. Living out of bags and I can't help, but to make sure to never fully unpack.

Many places filled with different faces, but nothing feels like home and on most days I'd rather just be left alone. Today I've come to realize that being alone is for my own good because most don't love or value me like they should.

Gave my last and fell flat on my ass, but I'm a survivor so I dust my shit off with my bruised heart and cold shoulder as I grow wiser and older.

My love is infinite, pure, and forgiving, but most use that fake love shit as a pawn to keep you on a leash with their wicked intentions and love nor genuine with my pedigree; just liars and backstabbers that promised to be there for me.

I used to think I couldn't live without my mama and it's been eight years still breathing so I could give a damn if people keep leavin' because you see I'm done pleasin'.

Everybody constantly mistreatin' and I've found my voice so damnit I'ma make some loud ass noise.

Been chocking on sorrow since I could talk and tripping over tomorrow's since I could walk, but I will make it there.

The vision is so clear and my time is finally near. I don't care about all these bruises because they'll eventually heal like the slits that were once on my wrist painting untold stories of this hard ass road to glory