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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1834115
Written after being cut from varsity swimming with other emotional trauma.
What is this place that I call my home?
So pink, full of relics that seem not my own.
They say that home is where the heart is,
But my heart is not here,
Only pieces and fragments of the girl I once was
Pieces and fragments I still hold so dear
Reminders of people who love me
A million books I should read
Mementos of my achievements
That seem meaningless now.
They weren't enough to get me where I want to go.
I still want to go home, even though I am here
In the place I call home
Home is where the heart is
But my heart is not here.
I am anxious, I am shaking,
I want to run, but I don't know where to go.
I want to feel safe, but my safety is gone.
That confidence, that arrogance, that strength that holds my head up
When inside I feel like dying
Is all that's keeping me from crying
All that keeps my outside solid
While my insides crumble.
And I just wish that I could disappear
Of that all of this could be a dream
And that I could wake up and be at home
But I don't know where my home is
Because home is where the heart is
And my heart has disappeared.
© Copyright 2011 QueenErinI (aquathena at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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