Billabong And Short Lazy Summer Walks. Poem by Desiree Whitamore

Last summer was the freedom she never had
The whole world was her oyster
She had to laugh
The days went by so fast
And she knew, she wouldn't be the same
God she hated everyone she ever knew
Her body changed, her existense grew.
Her heart made every single decision from then on
The heat made her sweat but she didn't care
This was her chance. It was finally there.
She took it all in before going home
And she cried: 'this is my life. This is my future. I belong here. Mom. Im not coming home'