In a home that never sleeps where do you find your peace. That be a place of silence that you can call your own. These hollow walls leaking secrets even your own room will tell every soul. Where do you catch your breath in places where the air is posioned? When every breath is your saving grace while writing your own requiem. As bags form under your eyes and the night drags on, sobering up and feeling the different ways you destroyed your body the night before. Only to realize that you found sanctuary in this because there is no longer a place of sanctuary and you need some kind to wake up on monday morning.
"She sounded like she was about to cry. But then I heard her take a breath. Then she changed the subject. Everyone did that. When something hurt, well, we just changed the subject."
“Missing someone isn’t about how long it has been since you’ve seen them or the amount of time since you’ve talked. It’s about that very moment when...”