Infuriated by the world I live at my dad's... pain floods through my thoughts.

Treated like crap by people that I thought that loved me.

The wounds the words left behind threaten to shed scads of tears...

I clutch my broken heart, refusing to allow the waterworks to turn on and cascade down my cheeks.

The air filled with inaudible music trying to lift my cheeks into a simple simper, my friends try to do the same.

The place that I considered home changed forever in 2012, the joyous place that I felt at home was suddenly gone...

Now I dare not enter the place that makes Purgatory look tame.

A house filled with angst, and hurt.

They strike me not with their hands but with their cruel, petty words.

I've done what I can to stay away from that place that 'Mr. Happy' calls home.

I shouldn't be so mean... he is my dad after all.

The mental trauma inflicted there isn't worth all the tears that are shed.

Words that are as sharp as knives, and the dam of tears threatening to break and make me start to blubber.

My pompous father and my egotistical grandmother... both of them demented in the heart and head.

The gunfire of insulting words levant consistently.

My grandmother claims that I am heathen and I am going to hell... little does she realize that I am already there, when I am at her place.