Home

Shut your mouth, I won't hear another word. Because the words that come from your mouth are like spikes that make holes in my heart and soul. I don't want to know what is it that comes in your head because it just hurts too much and doesn't help me to carry on with my life. Now nothing but friends, these knifes that came out of your mouth, righteous words to an inpatient spirit that awaits the time to fly away. My home awaits my dead embrace.
Love's that state of mind that tricks and plays with your soul, that makes you laugh and be someone else, that makes you cry and despair for someone else. I don't want to have it because it has hurted me too much, too badly in the past. I'm my truth but no one believes me. Carry on living, carry on hurting yourself and someone else, carry on without the heat of the summer camp, the freshness of the ocean in the morning. Because Death will come for you all and no false pretensions, to deals, no pain or love will make you stay, forever.
Precision in the shoot, please sniper in the top of the building, because I want to go to home, fell the comfort of my bed, the heat of my unclean soul, the walls that makes this house something more that just a memory. Bring me back to myself, that liar, that sinner, that condemned Demon that won't escape the fires of Hell. I won't be myself until I'm home.