brocklee

You remind me of home:
the paint cracks when the water leaks
from the rusty pipes that are just beneath my feet
You
remind me of home:
the heater's warm but fills the room
with a potpourri of dust and gas fumes

You remind me of home:
a broken bed with dirty sheets
that creaks
when I am shifting in my sleep
You remind me of home:
in a suburban town with nothing to do,
patiently waiting for something to happen

But the foundation is crumbling
and becoming one with the ground
while you lay there in slumber...
You're wasting your life
wasting your life

You remind me of home:
sitting on a thrift store couch, I'm trying to
get this all
down