Anywhere but home
‘Home’ is such an unfamiliar word to me these days. For so long I feel like I’ve been running to different places and people in the search of home. I’m with my family, just not home. My family is two messed up individual who couldn’t have been paired worse raising three children that don’t have an appetite for life anymore. I’m away at college in my own room, just not home. I stare at the yellow walls while I spiral. I keep the room scented, fresh. Six days out of a week you’d think the owner of the room is a person who’s put together. I fill the walls with pictures of people I love so that on days it gets so bad I can still feel a little alive, so that, even if I don’t want to live for myself anymore I need to for them. I’m the elder daughter. I’m supposed to make it convenient for everyone. I wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of the inconvenience my family would have to go through because of my death. Haha. I’m with friends that feel like family, maybe more than family but I’m s