Confession number six

That place isn't my home anymore.

I remember the days where I would live, breathe, and sleep along side those people.

All together for the one same interest, the one same goal.

That place isn't my home anymore.

If I were to step away from them, will my heart stop?

Will it sink into the abyss that is my now absent self?

The connection is lost. The living is harsh. The breathing is shallow.

There is no sleep. There is no interests or goals.

There is no people.

That place isn't my home anymore.

Ask me why I stay, there will be no answer.

Ask me how to leave, to leave the falling ruins of that place, that place that is no longer my home...

The answer is simple:

You can't.

That place isn't my home anymore.

It is my cage.