I haven’t touched my suitcase since I’ve come home,
and I miss your voice so if you would pick up your phone.
I’ve noticed I’m alone here, this house is far from a home.
Cause broken bottles on the floor
is something that cant go ignored
And holes in walls from ****** fists
Just make my stomach churn and twist
And I'm tired.
Tired of this.
And I'm tired
I wasnt built to live with this.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
I haven’t touched my suitcase since I’ve come home,
and I miss your voice so if you would pick up your phone.
I’ve noticed I’m alone here, this house is far from a home.
Cause broken bottles on the floor
is something that cant go ignored
And holes in walls from ****** fists
Just make my stomach churn and twist
And I'm tired.
Tired of this.
And I'm tired
I wasnt built to live with this.
Request permission to use this poem