Sunday, May 4, 2014

 I have one more month.

I just have to make it one more month.


Then nobody can place a full drink on top of my computer and pray I knock into it in the dark.

Nobody can throw all my stuff on the floor.

Nobody can “fix the sink” and flood the cabinet below that contains all of my items.

Nobody can make fun of me for not being able to reach the slightly spilled make up behind the sink.

Nobody can throw out my food in the fridge.

Nobody can tell me I’m a whore.

I don’t want to come “home” everyday wondering if I’m going to end up shaking and crying in the bathroom quietly so you can’t hear.

I just want a home.
Please.
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