Being home is strange.
Being back, that is
It was pure joy at first but
The longer it sits, the more it seems like
Saccharine sweet perfume over mold and rot
Embraces turn to gossip and mockery
Giggles among bullies and manipulators
This is the worst part
The knowing
The awareness
Bring me back to blissful ignorance
Back to the soft embrace of nostalgia
Let me live a happy childhood this time
If only for a while
Leave me alone, ignorant and healed
I want to feel a joy that lasts
Being home is strange.
YOU ARE READING
Random Poems I Wrote:)
PoesíaNot good at writing these intro thingys sorry, but I will try my best to get my basic point across:) A collection of poems that I have written or are in the process of writing and revising:) I will post them as they are written and please comment an...
