Your existance gives me some kind of homesickness,
which doesn't necesarily inplies the word home.
I ache for you.
I'm sick of being here,
alone,
boring me,
so safe.
"Find out what you're afraid of and go live there"
-Chuck Palahniuk
The thing is, I don't even know what I'm afraid of.
I need a new hair style, a new me.
And I've been hiding in all of this nonesences that give me some kind of peace,
leaves me out of the bunch,
saves me from feeling common
And this mess I am keeps crawling inside me,
and this mess I've made, it's soon to come out.
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