House of Bones

Home was never really a home,
it was a dry, dry desert
masqueraded by instability
and family affairs that nurtured rumors.

Everything lovely was branded nasty and dirty,
it was wrong to be happy
in the presence of those
who were still mourning their youth.

Childhood memories were damaged,
lies were companions in beds with people
like a married couple.
Anything important was a joke.
Everything was a conspiracy.

Despise, hatred, and rejection
lead the way to depression.
Destruction was inevitable.
Something had to give.

Too many years of turmoil and distress,
too many unheard cries for help,
and unnoticed suicide attempts.
The damage will never be repaired.

Everything good and inviting
should’ve began at home in the arms of love
but it was the most dangerous place to be
instead of the safest place to let
the heat from the rest of the world off.
Some of the worst kinds of monsters lived there.

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