Crappy Writngs. *sigh*

When I'm back home (parents), I feel familiarity but no
possession. I feel the same here ( her married house). I haven't slept a single
day and woken to a time stood old room, where I'd even know what the leaves look
like on the trees outside.I feel so out of place

.


This is what she said to me, after sometime being here and spending sometime being there.
Your the other two sisters feel exactly the same. They don't know where to feel belonged. One wants to leave this place, this war zone and go back to where she has been for the past four years. She terms it "a vacation that i think will end, but it won't"

And me? If I tell you, that I want to runaway, would you believe me? That I am ready to get packed in a suitcase, away from here, away from this, away from you. Though, I don't see you more than four times a year, that too coincidentally, doesn't mean that I don't know that you exist within the same parameters of this city. This lonesome, Winter city.
They pushing me to the extent of never to return into the parameters of that cruel school. Desire compelling me to just get up and walk out of the class.
Let us get high, so their insults don't penetrate us, so we can ignore them and still try to see the beauty that exists in them, if it does.
She takes her box of cigarettes out. Examines their length and beauty, the ability of playing with fire.
Endlessly staring into the heater fire and thinking of the aerosol that burnt her face. She's scared but not enough, to not manage another mistake like that.
She is always scared. She is always cold. She is always wanting to be devoid of feelings.
She always feels incomplete, always feels the lack of something that should've been there.
She needs to stop existing.