I return
hesitantly
to this quiet
place
a place
i'd like to call home.
pictures on the walls
remind me that i have
family and friends.
nicknacks and empty spaces.
a constant reminder
that i should feel
just fine.
happy even.
over organized and clean
everything has it's place.
it's so pretty despite the location.
appearances aren't everything.
i'm covered in dark black and red splotches
bleach cannot cleanse.
scrubbing an scraping a whole
right threw myself.
my nose is running
eyes burning
i can't escape
the fumes.
you smell fresh homely air
similar to my grandmother's home.
so welcoming.
i do not.
the bleach is killing me.
burning right threw my soul.
i am not home.
