One day my friend visited me
I did my best to make everything comfy
Once he left, I asked him what he thought
He told me it reeked,not of vomit or mold but an image that had rot
He explained further how my family tries so hard
To be good and genuine, but it felt too far
He had seen too much and been through more
In his own house,his mother is violent and torn
It surprised me, yet I agreed
That everything is exhausting in my place,and I want to leave
This helped me further notice the pungent shade
That held it together as my anxiety refused to fade
I am growing now and finding a path
Away from that place full of unnecessary wrath