Here I am on this lonely edge.
No one around but myself.
I think back to the times when I actually believed I had a family.
It makes tears roll down my face to remember that I used to be happy with these people.
Now my days are full of constant fighting, yelling, and screaming.
I hide myself behind my closed door and cry to myself.
I try to be strong but how much longer is it going to take until I break?
I already feel like I'm crumbling.
I need a getaway, a break, something.
Anything.
I'll go anywhere other than here.
This house I used to call my home, it no longer contains the people I once called my family.
The only thing that holds us together is what would become of us if we weren't.
My voice isn't heard, instead it's thrown away.
My presence is either an annoyance or it's falsely wanted.
This love that they claim to have is one that I hate.
I don't love, I don't love, I don't love.
I.
Don't.
Love.
Here I am on this lonely edge,
Thinking if I should let go and fall.
