If home were where the heart is, am I to be considered careless?
Still young with four parents, why do I feel so alone?
This hostel that calls me a student, do they care for me?
How am I supposed to adult on my own...
I have biological and sudo-step family and they seem happy
As they are, they are content with their nuclear families
And I am content with solitude. Something to call my own.
But solitude ends with the term.
I sleep in living rooms and, after emotional diffusers, at friend's houses.
My little half-brother hasn't yet learned that he can ignore me while I wallow in my pity
A lesson that he will learn with my termly absences
A lesson my parents surely have
I don't think that it's being sent away that makes me feel alone
Nor the sleeping on couches, many people seem to be fine and they were also raised like this.
No, it's the happiness. Their happiness...
Yes, I am the bad guy of this story, the antagonist you boo
I arrogantly assume that if they loved me they would be sadder when I went away.
And, maybe, at first they were, but that was before the wedding bells rang, again.
Before they promised to death for the second time
I know there are more lessons to be learnt now that I'm growing older.
Lessons that have served me well, but that childish rage in me will always glow.
So I'll finish my education, get a job and a house
And hopefully emotionally I'll grow.
And maybe, just maybe, my heart will grow softer, or bolder.
Read and relate, otherwise ignore.
I just want to drop pretences for a second and immortalize my immaturity.