In a community full of strict words, strict language, strict voices

Growing up in the military leaves one with no other choices

Expected to grow up fast and be strong

When all I wanted was my teddy bear to hold

I mastered the ability to appear independent in public

While depending in the private of my room on my mom and dad's approval

With much dismay

With much dismay

The paper became my parents

The ones I wanted to skip a workday and simply meet me halfway

The pen became my voice

The one I was too scared to use

My voice was parch by the end of the night and my 'parents' whispered continuously that it was alright

I closed my journal and put it out of sight

Then fell asleep with a relieved sort of delight

I can finally breathe 

Until tomorrow when poetry will be my bestest friend all over again