No Place Like Home
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Nov. 7th, 2012 | 09:12 pm
We'll call this home because you say you love me
I think its funny you don't notice that I never say it back
or maybe that's just something I tell myself so I won't feel so fucking bad . . .
He tells me I don't love him all the time. I know he believes it. Because its true. I don't know why I stay If I know that. It's like an addiction - to comfort, routine. I'm disgusted with myself. I have a terrible migraine today and I'd like to go to sleep now. . .
She pressed herself against the sheets - such a pillowcase portrait
but this princess sits at home locked inside her literary fortress
telling herself that life is hell and the future will be boring
its all bullshit and you're losing if you take in what their whoring