Never did I think,
That moving ‘home’,
Would be the reason,
I constantly think about the end.

I was so naïve to even think,
That me being back,
Would be any different.

I made their lives more difficult,
They were happy without me.
It must be such a pain,
For them to have to look at me.

Each day only gets worse,
I don’t know how long I can take it,
Before I break.

.
.
.

Who could have known,
That moving ‘home’,
Would mean the end.