Home is where the heart is, is where I fall apart, is a place that suffocates, clips my wings with frustration and love, is where I cannot be the me I am at this point in life, have got to be nice to a role that is token. The rules never spoken but we all know I never got permission to grow. I am still complying by imperfectly lying and allowing the ghost in me to embrace lethargy for the sake of the shell where my poor parents dwell.
