I dread going back.

The empty house with no love.

I dread walking through the doors.

The doors no one noticed that I opened.

I dread seeing the other people who live there.

The people who barely know I’m here.

I dread it.

The way I’m ignored, neglected.

I dread my house.

The house that has never felt like home.

Can’t I have a home?

One where love blooms?

One where I’m hugged?

One where I’m kissed?

One where I hear, ‘I miss you!’?

Can’t I?

I love going back!

The house filled with love!

I love walking thought the doors!

The way, ‘I missed you!’ Is said the moment the handle jiggles!

I love seeing the other people who live there!

The people who care for me though and through!

I love it!

The way I’m loved, cherished.

I love my home!

The home that never feels like only a house.

But it’s fake.

All of the love.

The smiles.

Yet, I’m smothered.

Everyone knows everything.

Nothing is private.

But everything is fake.

But can’t I have a moment alone?

Can’t I have an empty house for one day?

One where I’m not yelled at?

One where they ignore me?

One where I get privacy?

One where I can be myself?

Why is it?

Why is it that the only reason that I love my home is becuase

I know people have it worse?

Where they get ignored everyday?

Where they don’t even get fake love?

Though I might get loved I think, I know it’s fake.

I get yelled at.

I get smacked.

I get fake smiles.

I get fake hugs.

No one misses me.

Is it that my home is really just a house?

Am I the one who has it worse?

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Hi my loves! ♥️ I hope you have a great day! Thanks for reading!

QOTD: Guys I’m a little nosey. If you have a crush what do they look like?????

Mine is around my height or an inch taller than me, messy brown hair, slim, freckles, same grade and loves art! 🖼️

And remember; If she leaves you for another, there’s always her mother.

Also sorry if the write is confusing! 🫤