Your room is a color that you could never describe but it comforts you completely, making you complacent and drowsy and comforted, only in a way though. Your head lulls back and you listen to your blood thrum back and forth from your heart to your head, and you hum to yourself, low and sweet, an old lullaby that used to make you sad. The notes are visible in the draft of things, floating on and falling away like so many tears.

Your blue eyes open and you gaze off into space, distant and sullen. Books line the closet each with unique and beautiful spines, unique and beautiful tales that you wish you were apart of. Its next to the earthen clothing and bright yellow pumps. Your tv lies in the corner, collecting dust, and one more day is ticked of your anime FLCL calender. One more day until you are out of your house. One more day. You let your tongue roll over your teeth and you breath in slowly. The bruises will fade soon, you tell yourself. Yes, soon.

Things will be better in the morning, you tell yourself. It's a mothers lie to sooth a balling brat...

How ironic. It's that homesickness, that feeling that your too goddamn happy to ever stay this happy. That one day soon, something will come forth and present itself to you, ruining everything that you've been striving for, everything you dream. You bury yourself in your comforter, the scent of your shampoo and stale beer lingers, and with a sad heart you slowly pass into the dark recepts of your mind.