I came on here to write
To set my mind free from the constraints
With which press against me as I attempt
To break away from my limitations
To toe over my boundaries
But I've found myself finding the line very...
. . . comforting
I feel very
. . . . . secure
I don't want to move, why don't I want to press?
I've lost my will to fight and I can't tell if it's me
Or if it's just the air closing in
The harder it gets to breathe
The easier giving up seems

Bones of wood splinter as they crack at odd angles
I'm trying to tangle myself with you
But my limbs are going crooked and I'm scared
Scared of the love it would take from you to not feel the pain
Because I don't want to entrust this heart in your hands
Worn thin like paper and snapping like strings
As rings of children pass through the corner of my eye
Are they all me?
I turn my head but there's nothing.
I'm terrified.
What if you left more than just your own pleasure inside of me?
Be that the case would it be your face behind my door
Or my dad's.
Would he have to be the man there for me? He doesn't even want to be the parent of me let alone my mistakes
I just don't understand how things like this happen but I see that they're happening and
I just want to sprint
I wish I hadn't said yes, hadn't picked 'right'
Because things turned so wrong
You were a true or false question and I assumed
Because I couldn't study for a test that I didn't even know was happening
I can still feel the confusion
Was it even a question to get wrong, at this point?
*What the hell.

I feel like the louder I try to speak the less you can hear the words
Must I whisper to you?
Must I hum my pain?
Must I hurt in this day and this time because you cannot listen to my screams?
Hold back my hair as I puke the words into porcelain
Because they cannot make it to your ears
Whisper sweet nothings because nothing could be as sweet as your words
Nothing could be as bitter as your intentions
And I love that you can hide them from me so well
Grasp my hands that cling to the edge of sanity
If you throw me down I'll be at your mercy
But if you pull me up my eyes will clear as will my mind
And I'll push you away forever

Within the darkness of night
There is a street light
  Sure it may flicker
   And give you a fright
    But there it will stand
     As our world turns to sand
     Lighting the dark
    Creating that spark
   To help you push forward
  Despite all your fears
Because with light in the dark
There is no need for tears

Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
       Waiting on the clock release us from whatever confines us. From work or from school. From sleep or from family. For our favorite shows or our favorite books. Or maybe the movie of today to finally end so you can go home.
       The difference between my home and yours is that my heart is embedded in every shift of the sheet and turn of the page, which occurs within the time I label free. Yours is your own, your heart and your soul and what you breathe your every breath to return to.
       My home is a relaxing place with no time limits and no thoughts of please, please be time to leave, just let me leave. My home knows not of my impatience and frustration or my tears of aggravation but it knows of my sorrows. It holds me in its motherly grasp ‘til the 'morrows. It grasps to my positivity and shows me the light that I need to grip the handrails of life and climb the next stair.
       Though we all have different homes, some all alone, others filled with crowds of chit chatters or silence. We are quiet minded in the place that speaks its volumes upon our hearts. In my home I wait not, for I fear not for the impending doom of responsibility, as home will always be there. It will be waiting, waiting for me to rest my weary shoulders onto its freshly made beds and close my eyes, cradled in its embrace.
       I don’t stare at the clock waiting for its tick or its tock.
       I am home.