She always spoke
Of working herself
Sick in the gym
And I'm starting
To understand why
She wanted to feel
This way.

I found home
in purple sheets
with her sleepy eyes
that lit with something
that apparently
I put inside of her
when the lights went out

home was breathing to me
in and out
like some kind of
involuntary action
but my house
was not a home
even before it
burned
or before I think
he ***** me

something there had
never been quite right
and I noticed it most
when I was at home
in those purple
sheets and her
messing hair
and her illuminating eyes

oh and I noticed
the feeling of
home sickness
when they took her away
and I still haven't
found a way
to be truly close to her
without seeing her
but I'll find a way
to go back home
soon enough

I'm not nostalgic
for a place that doesn't exist.
I'm nostalgic for
a girl who
let me roll around
in her bed
as our legs intertwined
and we laughed
until we couldn't
help but kiss.
I'm nostalgic for
a home that I
couldn't legally call mine
but I say is anyhow.
I want to go home.
and there is nothing wrong with that.

I cannot see why you hate it so much: what I'm apart of.
All I see is the good.
Your vision is tainted with bad, but I'm not sure why.
It's not even just about this.
You always have to be right.
But no.
What I am doing is WHO I AM.
This is what I do.
And I'm tired of defending myself and
What I am apart of
Because you have no right to put it down.
You put it down, you put me down.
All I saw tonight was good.
Yes, there is bad everywhere.
But the difference between me,
The one who is recovering,
And you,
The one who keeps relapsing
For little things that could mean nothing,
Is that I TRY to see that good.
I don't look at the bad.
I see the girls who smiled tonight,
And that one boy who tried to help
Me at volleyball, where I am weak.
I don't see the anarchy that
Someone told you was there.
All I saw was love.
And I belonged there.
So no more putting it down,
At least not to me.
You will not make me unhappy
Like you tend to be.

Maybe I should move on with my life.
I just spent 2 and a half hours
With people who I truly do love.
And I really did feel at home.
I only feel that way with certain people.
And the people I tend to surround
Myself with do not seem to
Bring that feeling of belonging to me.
So maybe this is a good thing.
No, I know it is.
It is a wonderful thing.
Instead of dwelling on the hate
And the pain and the past
I can focus on these people
That make me feel like I belong
In a way that is not just listening
To everyone else's problems.
And I think it's time
That everyone I've been taking care of,
Learn how to fend for themselves.

I want to punch in a wall.
Because I'm alone.
And being alone is how this all started.
I can't afford to relapse.
But I've lost everyone.
Because I lost her.
And everyone thought it'd be okay to mess with me.
People think it's a good idea to make their move when I am vulnerable.
But no.
You made your move and I locked you out.
Who said it was a good idea to prey on a heartbroken girl?
No.
Someone explain that to me.
Is it because I got so sad that I started texting a girl from England?
Does that justify it?
I hate that girl.
She makes me sick, Emily does.
So exactly who thought it would be okay to rip me to pieces?
And why did everyone decide to join in on the game?
I don't understand.
Two of you have seen me break down over my heartbreak.
But you did it anyway.
I don't want another apology.
I HATE pretending that I don't care.
Because I am human.
I hate having my heart torn out as much as the next girl.
Maybe more.