here i built fortress in the woods to escape from being there
here i learned to love cigarettes and rebellion
here i escaped into my self-pity and fear
here i cried and laughed alone
here the shooting stars meant that you loved me
here nothing had to make sense
here the memories were palpable and unbearable
here i never wanted to leave to go back to my room
here, where the azalea bushes srpang and memories of innocence went to rot
here, where the watching windows could not see me
here, where the cinder block headstones held up the weight
here, where the world stepped off my shoulder
here, here alone i feel at home
here.
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- at 2:04 AM on Thursday, February 28, 2008
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