Everyone says home is four walls and a door
For me home is when I'm with my friends
They are my happy place even if I don't say it
I don't think they know how much they're helping me, I've lost so much in my life and I'm dreading the day I lose them.
Home
A group of people
Prison
Four walls and a door
My idea of hell is when I'm home
For I feel suffocated by every breath
I panic as my breath gets caught while tears streak down my cheeks leaving my eyes a light crimson shade of red
My heaven is with them, they all do different things that make me love them but all make me jealous
I feel the jealousy is from the fact they can do things I will most definitely never be able to do or from the way they are, which is nowhere near being their fault.
Never once have I wished to be different so much
Maybe if I was more masculine
Maybe if I was more confident
Maybe if I was a memory
Home
Never four walls and a door
But always them.
E.w
