Pieces of Me.

Painful and Confortable.

11/11/2018

I need a safe space, I need it.

My bedroom in my mom's house was always my dark world. The world that I ran to when my pretty world, my room in my dad's house, was sofucating me. That almost never happened because the lightness usually hugged me. Six nights a month of darkness seemed like a good deal most of the time.

I don't have a dark world anymore since my sister went back home. Now the world that was once mine is hers. She had to take out most of my stuff to put hers, finding a lot of rotten food wrapped in paper towels, more than I ever thought hid.
She also found a few other things, that room was called dark world for a reason. When I'm at my mom's it's like my body has no boundaries, and neither does my mind.

I haven't been feeling the happiest lately, and I can't hide my sadness in the room that is now someone else's.

The good thing about having two rooms is that I could have the best of both worlds.

Now all I have is the room in my dad's.

Somehow my pretty world is darkening and where the lightness hugged me, now the darkness does.

The demons of my past are plastered on my present walls of the room I sleep every night.

It's weirdly painful and comfortable at the same time.