Not ready to talk
So I keep
Walking into walls
That are too tough to fall
So they just wobble then stall
And they seem so tall
The suns just a memory
This winter is a death sentence
And everyone's dead to me
Just because I remember what has been said to me
Doesn't mean I have to scratch the words in my skin
I don't feel the wind
Because my walls block me in
And while the windows rattle
The walls won't bend

This isn't home.

Just because of an area code
Home is in the eyes that stare at these structures and see no demise besides acting surprised when they eat me alive
When I knew all along
Along for the ride
A **** or a pipe a priority
Above all
The majority **** y'all over anyway
So gimme good *** bud in plenty jays
And let my *** incinerate
No one to help inside this trap of myself
These walls become skin
When contemplating them

This isn't home.

Just because of an area code
Home is in the eyes that stare at these structures and see no demise
Just a task to adapt to
Blast through
And never come back to
Home is behind my eyes
Ones that don't need to know the what's or the why's
Or the length or the size
Just to get by
Ones that know I don't need to get high to see beyond these walls to know

*This isn't home.