Home is where the heart is.
But my heart is chasing after people I cannot have
Who live in broken homes they cannot save.

My parents' home is not necessarily mine.
All we do as a family is dine.

Picture perfect on the outside,
Crippling despair on the inside.

Father drinks
Mother blinks
And a fight ensues.

Home sweet home.
—•—•—•—
Just a note that this is NOT about my family or anyone else's. It is a story which I feel has unfortunately become the reality for too many people.