Home.

Cremated in a house fire
the arsonist got away
but still, I am left in agony
lying in my chair
-the worst place to lie-
lying to myself
about the validity
of statements left unsaid
and yet I am dead
not in a morbid way either
but in a more
optimistic
point of view

they're so invalid
now that I think about it
-points of view, that is-
I mean, what truth
does a point of view hold?
none is the answer.
but merely an opinion
traced to the eye of the beholder.
The fact of the matter is,
no matter what
no point of view is correct
necessarily
merely percieved as correct
by whomever
carries said point of view.
No matter
how much I think I'm right
the likelihood
of me actually being right is slim to none.

I just want this shit to go away.
I want to be somewhere
where people care about other people.
Where feelings of love and compassion
reciprocate amongst everyone.

I don't care anymore
I hate this... this hate
it's stupid
it's childish
it's unnecessary
I just want to be alone again.
God I never thought I'd say that
EVER.
But it's true.
No one here cares about me like she does
like they do
back at the place I belong.
My real home away from home.
Although, in actuality, it isn't really
a "home away from home"
because I never had a home to begin with.
It's my home. Period.