1_21Guns
August 17th, 2010, 01:50 PM
he's in my room again
he's screaming at me again
i've done something again
i've always done something
the cupboard doors open again
the painkillers are out again
i'm taking them again
i'm always taking them.
she's watching TV again
she's staring blankly at the screen again
i don't think she's really watching it
i don't think she cares much for whats going on on-screen
he's walking up the stairs again
the stairs are creeking again
i'm sat at my computer again.
i'm not actually sure where i am.
he's clearing his throat again
he's thudding towards my bedroom door again
i'm staring blankly as words pop up on screen again
i'm waiting to hear what i've done wrong this time
she's not listening again
she's trying to blank out the shouting upstairs again
i'm trying not to retaliate again
i'm trying not to show how much it hurts.
i'm lay passed out on the kitchen floor again
i'm waiting to be nearly caught out again
i'm waiting till i get the guts to pull out the knife again
i'm waiting until i finally don't wake up.
they're both shouting at eachother again
they're both forgetting i'm only upstairs again.
i wait for them to stop again
i sit on the top of the stairs, watching them through the gap.
he's throwing me that look again
he's calling me numb again
i'm numb inside again
i'm always numb one way or another.
i'm trying to work out which memories are real, and which are dreams again
i'm trying to understand why my father does this again
i'm trying to figure out why my mother turns a blind eye again
i'm trying to make sense of everything.
a few drinks later, i've stopped thinking again.
a few drinks later, the pains gone again.
a few drinks later, he's shouting at me again.
a few drinks later, i can finally sleep.
he's drinking himself to death, drowning in lager and his mixed up emotions.
she's covered in rashes, caused by stress from her family.
i'm slipping away from everyone, lost in my own world blacking reality out with painkillers and alcohol.
what kind of family do you call this?
he's screaming at me again
i've done something again
i've always done something
the cupboard doors open again
the painkillers are out again
i'm taking them again
i'm always taking them.
she's watching TV again
she's staring blankly at the screen again
i don't think she's really watching it
i don't think she cares much for whats going on on-screen
he's walking up the stairs again
the stairs are creeking again
i'm sat at my computer again.
i'm not actually sure where i am.
he's clearing his throat again
he's thudding towards my bedroom door again
i'm staring blankly as words pop up on screen again
i'm waiting to hear what i've done wrong this time
she's not listening again
she's trying to blank out the shouting upstairs again
i'm trying not to retaliate again
i'm trying not to show how much it hurts.
i'm lay passed out on the kitchen floor again
i'm waiting to be nearly caught out again
i'm waiting till i get the guts to pull out the knife again
i'm waiting until i finally don't wake up.
they're both shouting at eachother again
they're both forgetting i'm only upstairs again.
i wait for them to stop again
i sit on the top of the stairs, watching them through the gap.
he's throwing me that look again
he's calling me numb again
i'm numb inside again
i'm always numb one way or another.
i'm trying to work out which memories are real, and which are dreams again
i'm trying to understand why my father does this again
i'm trying to figure out why my mother turns a blind eye again
i'm trying to make sense of everything.
a few drinks later, i've stopped thinking again.
a few drinks later, the pains gone again.
a few drinks later, he's shouting at me again.
a few drinks later, i can finally sleep.
he's drinking himself to death, drowning in lager and his mixed up emotions.
she's covered in rashes, caused by stress from her family.
i'm slipping away from everyone, lost in my own world blacking reality out with painkillers and alcohol.
what kind of family do you call this?