not poetry, potential reality

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2019-09-09, 10:37 AM

It's been 5 hours since what could be one of the worst arguments in history. At least, in terms of my family.

Not that it hadn't happened before. Three years ago at 2 AM a similar fight unfolded. This one was no different.

I really don't want to talk about it here. I only trust so few people to tell this travesty to. Until things blow over, though, I don't think I'll be here any longer. I'm living now in a potential war zone and the more I stay here the more I'll suffocate.

Everyone is decorated with scars. Not anything poetic. This is legit scars from the fights we fought--physical and mental, probably even emotional--that I'm talking about here.

Just...don't bother me unless you want to distract me from this or want to know what the hell went down.

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