The safety of my home

Here I am, here I lay, the safety of my home, the safety of my ways.

On my couch, where I lay, it swallows me whole, just like the good old days.

When you look at me, your hands moved a blur, disbelief and disgrace, coating your face.

I couldn’t help but to run, run far, far away, only to end up on that couch, my time a waste.