But sometimes...I forget I'm at home again. When no ones up and megan's on the computer alseep while I'm awake at ungodly hours of the night. Listening to itunes and writing poetry...I foget I'm home. And I remember everything. The smell of the candles. And the cigarettes. The bed...the porch...the kitchen...everything is there, in my head...etched forever it seems. The last days stand out so much more. The yelling, cursing, my brother hearing it all. Airing dirty laundry right in my uncles home. The screaming...the pointing...his fierce face in mine. Reading to try and run away from it. And everything hurts, just like it did. I've got to get to bed...this is rediculous. I need to make it go away...just, make the memories leave...
Monday, March 05, 2007
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Previous Posts
- Day Ten
- My Trip to VA
- I'm not so much of a punk...
- But sometimes...I forget I'm at home again. When ...
- Oh WHY Would I Want to be Anywhere Else?
- So I Flew away, yet again, into a Grey Sky Morning...
- I...
- So, 6 days till i go home. And this is the very f...
- The rope thats wrapped around meIs cutting through...
- All that She intends, and all She keeps inside, Is...

