Headaches and Home
09/10/2010

You remember the comfort of that living room,
Summers that never seemed to fade,
But now all that your accustomed to,
Is a blinding headache.

So you try not to move on that sofa near the door,
Because the more you do, the less you see the floor,
And the pain is so complete so intense, at least you know it exists,
What could matter more than this?

And those dreams that you have, of blizzards and snow,
They tell you more about you, than you ever seem to know,
And the truth is that you want nothing more,
Than to go back to that place called home.

Because its not the people, not even the places,
Just the way the setting sun made you feel,
So your already sick of all these blank faces,
But atleast you can hold onto something real.

You dont have to cry, you never liked wet eyes,
There's a time and a place for such things,
So supress all those emotions, the happiness in being,
Just get a headache from the swallowed "feelings"