home.

close, yet so far.

even from within, I feel a million miles away

always.

the bones of the house, dead.

the earth beneath me, dead.

I seem to be the only thing alive here

but I'm far from living.

alone, surrounded by those called family.

alone, with only the sun to keep me company

dry my tears, warm my heart

it's cold out here, and I left my coat.

he keeps it locked up, and hides the key.

he tells me when to be warm, when to be cold.

when to feel, when to not.

when to be.

I want to be me.

by myself.

alone, but alive, with the sun at my back

hurrying me along,

away from this place.

I'll trade the loneliness of family for

the loneliness of freedom.

gladly. 

always.