The sound of the front door key
Became so frightful.
I must be mistaken,
I do not see the floor
Nor the ceiling and the windows.
Layed down in the bed with my name
But the blankets do not recognise my cold body
Room becomes tighter
Walls thinner
Screams and curse words can be heard
2.am and a tear is shed
What is this place I go back everyday
I read home in the dusty carpet
But even the carpet itself knows the lie that its being told.
8 a.m and I leave again
(Where should I go?)
Keys on my left pocket
I wish they would disappear
(maybe me?)
How could this be?
Music and the wind feel more home
Even the rain and the cold make me smile somehow.
Don't want to come back
But the shoes already know the path.
The sound of the front door key
Became so frightful.
I must be mistaken,
I do not see the floor
Nor the sealing and the windows
I'm just craving for the day
When go back to my childhood days
Open the front door as a kid,
And find home again.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
A Dead Tired Writer
DiversosThis is all a girl has been feeling from last 22 years. She's Tired of Rejection . Misconception. Lack f passion. Lost Love. A famly that loves too much to open their eyes and see Real Her. A society that nvr came to her rescue when she's drownin...
