A house is not a home: when a hands are placed in places that make you want to cover your face.
I was five, I didn’t know.
No one told me how far a dirty secret could go.
A house is not a home: when you return there every day and think what a disgrace.
I was only eleven; but I just knew… I told them not to buy it.
Mah was like: “well, we’ve got to get out of here; we’ll fix it up, let’s just try it .”
A house is not a home: when thoughts of that place give you a sick feeling, like the one you get if you drink milk that has a sour taste. (I’ve done that before)…
Monoxide, mildew, mold, DIRTY DIVORCE. That place was literally killing me.
All I could do to cope was sleep and dream of the fictional place I’d rather be.

A house is not a home: when a hands are placed in places that make you want to cover your face.
A house is not a home: when you return there every day and think what a disgrace.
A house is not a home: when thoughts of that place give you a sick feeling, like the one you get if you drink milk that has a sour taste.
Home is where the Heart is….Well mine was stolen, destroyed and hidden back I was a kid.
And I’ve been dying to get home ever since.