I have become a refugee of my former place of refuge,
Bad emotion like water,
Overflowed into this poisoned oasis,
Oh, I've got to get out,
I'm drowning in memory.
Home,
Where has that feeling gone?
Time passed on,
Tears fell from my cheeks and onto the walls,
Casting shadows,
Behind this bedroom door,
Home remains no more.
Plagued by uncertainty,
I'm taunted by my fear of relapse,
These walls remain as a constant reminder of where I've gone wrong.
Mess feels like a metaphor for the life I live,
Overwhelmed and consumed,
Having trouble catching my breath,
This feels like the end.
