What does one do
When their own blood
Treats them like ****
When they arent welcomed in
Their own home anymore
When the razor blades are rusty
And the well of tears run dry
When their heart aches and breaks
For it is love and acceptence they desire
When curling up in a ball
Naked in the bed doesnt suffice
And banging your head on a wall
Does nothing but anger your so called loved ones
Friends say "two more years"
But I will die, perish into nothing
If I must wait two more years
Trapped inside a hell
That they call home
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
What does one do
When their own blood
Treats them like ****
When they arent welcomed in
Their own home anymore
When the razor blades are rusty
And the well of tears run dry
When their heart aches and breaks
For it is love and acceptence they desire
When curling up in a ball
Naked in the bed doesnt suffice
And banging your head on a wall
Does nothing but anger your so called loved ones
Friends say "two more years"
But I will die, perish into nothing
If I must wait two more years
Trapped inside a hell
That they call home
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