Bones, Boobs, and Booze.
Bones, looking at my skin you could see them urging to pierce through.
Boobs, they missed out on my younger years, a myth I think they were.
Booze, the one thing college kids can’t live without, I’m living.
Becoming a woman I stopped settling for ice cream on a rainy day, and started settling for the ten minutes of solitude that make my problems go away.
I snatched away from my parents and felt embarrassed when they tried to hold my hand. If I could I’d go back I would.
Holding onto them and losing any sight of responsibility. I’m totally adulting now.
Bones, are less potrusive.
Boobs, are more realistic.
Booze, still not old enough.