Choices

So this is where I ended up,
where the choices I made led me.
I put myself on an alter,
and I watched as they bled me.
Perfection will never happen,
so be comfortable in the flaws.
You don't have to do it for them,
don't have to do it for applause.
It's okay to be twenty-four
and to still feel like you are lost.
I'm not one to judge anyway,
I've been on my own for so long.
Up in a room, inside my head,
I made myself an apartment.
Kept it, for you know, just in case
I ever needed some quiet.
But I put it up for sale,
in the hopes no one would buy it.
Some things are better left empty,
to break into and graffiti.