I'm a stranger in my own house
And there's nowhere to go.
Surrounded by familiar faces
But no arms to call home.

No where to seek comfort
When the rain starts to pour.
No arms to run into
When the monsters knock on the door.

It's a funny thing.
But it's not funny at all.
How far away everybody seems
Even when they're just down the hall.

I've taken what I feel
And locked it up tight.
Now I smile when I'm sad
To hide my own plight.

The only reminder that none of it's not real

Is the heaviness in my heart from wounds that won't heal.