The entire house is soaked in my tears, the walls are stained with my blood. Home is where I’m forced to remember
The carpet is matted with dread. The drapes are tattered and tangled with my anger. Home is where my hatred is.
My shame is under the broken pile of plates in the kitchen.My guilt is in the oven, but it’s still scorching my insides. Home is where my monstrosities hide.
The tile in the bathroom is cracked from my suicide attempt. I’m too afraid to look in the backyard. Home is where I’ve come to die.