It's a sad time to be,
when you walk through the door,
of a place you call home,
but really doesn't feel like home.
You turn on the bathroom light and wash off your face,
You hear a clunk in the empty space,
"Turn off the light dear, good night."
It's a sad time to know,
Your parents are just the same.
They let acts of violence, self hate & destruction
Sit under their nose,
invisble, just like were my clothes,
to that person in the streets,
that had followed me for weeks.
Its a sad time to be,
when the people who let you grow,
become no longer who you know,
but bodies in a building,
who's most important biding,
is to turn off the light,
and not even say hello.
It's sad time to be,
When what is bothering them most,
is the light creeping through the cracks,
and not the safety of their daughter,
who is now drowning in her past,
and you can't see the water.