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The walls are stained with the residue of divorce, The smell of mold still permeates the air, Mom’s anger still haunts every room, And the same doors that constantly slammed, Still conceal the same darkness. This house begs for renewal. It begs for saving. It’s suffocating. This “home” strangles you, Pushes the air out of your young lungs, Dims the sparkle in your eye, Strips you of your innocence, And teaches your feet to fear moving. The hardest part wasn’t leaving, It was realizing that I deserved to.
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May 11
May 11, 2026 at 5:31 PM UTC
Home, Sweet Home
The walls are stained with the residue of divorce, The smell of mold still permeates the air, Mom’s anger still haunts every room, And the same doors that constantly slammed, Still conceal the same darkness. This house begs for renewal. It begs for saving. It’s suffocating. This “home” strangles you, Pushes the air out of your young lungs, Dims the sparkle in your eye, Strips you of your innocence, And teaches your feet to fear moving. The hardest part wasn’t leaving, It was realizing that I deserved to.
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May 11
May 11, 2026 at 5:31 PM UTC
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