You reflected your pain but is was too much that it broke the mirror ,now we can't fix the pieces because there were too many.

Your heartstrings got played like a symphony but we never heard a sound because it faded once it reached our ears.

You try to explain but all we understand is venom ,you say it was a mistake but now you live in the mistake .

Your tides dragged you down you drowned before you could swim .....why angel? Asked the mirror we are all fools for trying not to listen.

a home, above all else,
is familiar.
it does not have to be comfortable,
nor does it have to be full.
a home is probably a favorite place to be,
or maybe it houses some of the cruelest memories.

I like homes where I can drive quick and still avoid each upcoming pothole--
ones where old neighbors and new couples hunker down for their respectful chapters of life.
I like homes where I can walk around each obstacle in the kitchen with my eyes shut tight and only bang my shins a little bit.

a home is a sense, an intuition.
it is a place where you can dance while no one is watching.
you can fling your tears and regret at the walls and let them absorb your true feelings,
hushing you with their pillows and soft sounds and views.

a home is a home anywhere you choose it to be,
but above all else,
a home is familiar,
and that is a home to me.

Firstly Hand me over to the pouring rain
Let me be soaked in that flooring pain
Be sure to let me me enjoy my goring gain

For I surely believe not in my plastic fame,but
Let me enjoy this acidic game I designed , Cos
I   know not  the rules of this drastic shame

Lastly Let me enjoy my intoxicating
Oxytocin that preserves my metamorphosis
To an ignominious state that will prevail
Through my youthful altercations.