Home
Home.
I can't stand it!
I'd rather be at school,
Twenty four seven,
Then be at home,
remember being eleven.
When danny was alive.
When I had an older brother.
It's so hard to survive,
With someone like mother.
Broken up,
Pieces scattered.
burned crisp,
Like hell's fire.
Depressing mist.
It sprays over my joy.
I'm so dead.
Home.
I can't stand it!
I'd rather be at school,
Twenty four seven,
Then be at home,
remember being eleven.
When danny was alive.
When I had an older brother.
It's so hard to survive,
With someone like mother.
Broken up,
Pieces scattered.
burned crisp,
Like hell's fire.
Depressing mist.
It sprays over my joy.
I'm so dead.
Flatlined.
Mom seems to be over it.
I need CPR,
To keep my heart beating,
Thump thump.
Breath in,
Breath out.
I need first-aide.
A Band-aide.
To keep me from bleeding.
Drip drip.
But my band-aide keeps getting ripped.
And my life keeps getting flipped.
Spiral up,
Spin down,
Repeat.
I'm seventeen.
Not Eleven.
Danny is dead.
Not alive.
Mother is still broken.
Not careless.
My band-aide is ripped.
Shredded,
Not protecting my wound.
Home...
Gone.
