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Oct 2013
i don't live in a city
i live in an apartment
(that happens to be inside of a city)
but
it's not loud
or bright
or busy
where i live
i keep the doors closed
i keep the blinds drawn

tonight,
i'm drinking cold coffee
wrapped in a thin blanket
the air is on high
as it always is
and my hands are shaking
as they always are
my phone is warm
i'm holding it close--
as an extended limb
that reaches out from
me to you
when the touch
is lost in the distance

silence gets stranger
by the hour and
i'm starting to feel
the sadness now
it's poured
out from my skull
and stained my skin
it's leaking into my clothes--
it's becoming all that i know

i said i would never call this Hell home,
because home was a place inside my mind
where i felt safe but it seems to have caught fire
in my sleep & burned to ashes with my dreams

how do i rebuild my life
when all i have are the bits and pieces
of a comfort that once sheltered me?
*what is the foundation for change made of?
Morgan
Written by
Morgan  25/F/Scranton Pa
(25/F/Scranton Pa)   
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