Broken Spirit in this Broken Home.

Location

38017
United States
35° 3' 37.152" N, 89° 38' 38.3712" W

I'm not into everyday people.
That doesn't mean that i'm not like you and you're not like them, but if i spoke to all of you, one by one or two by two, you telling me your story. Where you came from, what your father did to you or what your mother didn't do, or how you missed a meeting yesterday and lost that account, and without that money you're going to lose your house.

The odds of me, an imperfect, hateful, careless, rash, hard spoken, heartbroken, brown token, me. Connecting to you...

The nine to five everyday guy with the nuclear life and loving wife that you wish would sometimes just die, then try to take it back because she washes your clothes and gave you 2.5 kids and makes the best sandwiches and dinner is always ready when you get home-

and you hit her once then begged for her forgiveness until you did it again- and again, but she still doesn't leave you.
Why won't she leave you? She's scared.

That everyday guy with the everyday daughter who's gone blonde in the summer and brunette in the winter so many times her hair once turned green and she screamed like she did the night she hit that man with her brand new car.

Bones crushing, blood flowing like the Nile but she didn't dial she just left-
and didn't tell a soul. She left him out there in the cold to die. He died. Alone.

She dyed her hair black because she killed a man. An everyday guy just like her dad.

And if you told me, i wouldn't care. No tears.

Some everyday guy, Two thousand and one touched my sister. My beautiful broken sister. Only to come home late, the streets illuminated by the orange toned lamps that only reside in Germantown.

We know what it was like. "Be home before the street lights catch you!".
Be home.
Be home.
Be home.
If only she was home.
Only to come home to- a worried father, an enraged father, my father.

I hid under the chipped pink painted iron bed. Only seeing their feet but hearing it all.

Coming home only to be beaten red. Broken spirit in this broken home, while that everyday guy is gone with the wind only to live dipped in sin.

So don't hate me because i'm not into everyday people. Those people, are all the same.
And that doesn't mean i'm not like you and you're not like them...

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