Home (a cliche)

Fri, 06/22/2018 - 15:44 -- erynth

I kept walking, didn’t stop

until I saw the dull sun drop

then I ran through the plains

I where I sobbed out in the rain


panicked paranoia in the dark

shadow wolves chased me to the park

My legs were solid blocks of ice

My skin bleeding at every slice


I hid behind the church in pain

I sobbed and let my sorrow drain

I was throbbing, scared and cold

I was very very far from home


But there is no home that I now know

I am home, my flesh alone

I have nothing but my words

And my heart, a mess of cords


There in the darkness of the night

I thought back on another plight

And remembered with my eyes red

remembered the oath I had said


Then with fingers cold and dead

I reached out to my friend

And in warmth she took me back

To where they said my home was at


Though now in warmth, I sat alone

until one tried to make my home

at her feet and and with our blood

My anger stormed in like a flood


and then I looked to her in hate

Her appetite, no one could sate

And made my house there on my own

And made my sliced up flesh my home




Somethin I wrote a while back after I ran away and had a little epiphany

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741