I will take the knife you put in my back when I wasn’t looking
And push it through my flesh till it graces my heart
And nicks it just enough for the pain to come flooding out
Then I’ll paint you a portrait
Red with pain
And wrap it up with a bow on top
Because I would never forget your birthday
Or to congratulate you
As you grow one step closer to death
Because that is something that's actually worth celebrating

Home, sweet home.
You are the memories of my childhood.
Oh, how I love you.
The dreams I had.
The ones lived out and the ones still to be.
Laughing and celebrating with friends and family.
Swinging on the swing that once was in the backyard.
Climbing in the highest tree.
Feeling on the top of the world.
Oh, how I hate you.
The nightmares that hunted me at night.
Crying in the corners of my room.
Failures and broken dreams.
Yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs.
Hiding in bushes and thicket.
Feeling like my world was falling apart.
There is no place like home.