I sit wrapped in blankets,
listening as another dish hits the wall.
Mommy, daddy didn't mean what he said,
I swear it isn't true.
Don't walk out this time,
bring your suitcases back inside.
Dad, mommy didn't mean to yell,
put the alcohol back on the shelf.
I promise I'll try harder in school,
I won't go out as much.
I'll take care of myself
and I'll always clean my room.
They say home is where the heart is,
but mine's been bruised and broken.
What's it like to live
where everyone is in harmony?
Where you stay out too long,
and dad waits up worried?
How does it feel to hear laughter,
instead of constant screaming?
Even superglue can't paste
these crumbling remains together again.