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Permanent Home
i think the worst thing in the world is when you find someone who feels like home, but just like your childhood memories it all goes up in flmaes, it tears you apart, rips you to shreds, because it was supposed to work, it was always supposed to work.
it's like the time you knelt in a church for 6 hours begging to God for forgivness because there must be something wrong with you
You wash your hands 20 timea a day trying to cleanse yourself, you try to scrub the word "vulnerable" off your flesh as if it will make people realize you aren't a disease.
it's like the times you wake up to your parents throwing beer bottles and family portraits at each other as they spit out words as if it was a game.
and as you stand on the corner with your smokey breathe, screaming you swear you're insane, you wonder does anyone really feel at home?
because i remember the time when i was a child, and i saw a man sleeping on the sidewalk with a sign that read "always thankful for the life i live" and you think about the 17 year old who lives a few blocks away with a loving family, a three car garage, and everything she could ever want, but made the headlines or tying a rope around her neck and stepping off the stool.
And as you stand there with your chapped lips and your bloodshot eyes, you think to yourself..you'll never have a permanent home, because it's far too risky.
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