*in the meadow, we can build a snowman, and pretend that he is carson brown...*
and the music that should be filling our hearts with the spirit of christmas, and the joy of sharing it with one other, fades. and my head begins to pound, my surroundings beginning to blur. i close my eyes, trying with all my might to block you out. she already hates her life, i can imagine she even regrets you. you finally left, to so selfishly get only yourself dinner, not a thought of anyone else in your mind. i contemplated running. just running. where? i had no clue. i still don't. i don't think the four us could ever honestly say this house is a home. it's more comparable to a war zane, a prison, a boot camp. or better yet, a graveyard. because we're all really dead - inside. a true relationship is built on emotional honesty. if we can't tell each other how we feel, we will forever be like this, with this lack of harmony inbetween.
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1 comment:
your amazing
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