i hate that home smells like cigarettes
and i hate that family comes with screaming and crying
and i hate that we were taught that hate was too strong because if so then maybe my family shouldn't use it to describe how they feel about me
but that's what's normal to me now, i know it's sad
but i would give anything to fade away and not share their name.
i hate that i am always in the way even when i'm really not
i hate that i am responsible for their mistakes because that's what i was
at least, that's what they tell me.
my solace from this hell on our planet earth has eyes like the sea and a charming energy
neither of us can stand the ones we must call our "family".
even if blood is thicker than water mine still manages to boil
but thank god for my love who turns up my heat yet still decreases my temperature
a beautiful distraction from what resides at home
or should i say at my house? because home is where you're loved
and i was once told that i was made to be loved so if this is true
home is not home.
if home is where i'm loved then home is with my friends
home is where i can sing my heart out and receive smiles instead of frowns
home is where i can laugh and cry without fear of judging eyes
home is where i'm kissed on my cheek and i'm kissed on my hand
not where i'm yelled at and subsequently kissed WITH a hand
those kisses leave knots in my stomach and tears in my eyes
that's not home.
i want nothing more than to just go home
i just wish home could be a place
and not a person