mobile.

Being left and seeing people leave hasn't gotten any easier.

Even when he always comes back.

It is what it is when your home isn't a house and your house has never been home. I hate Mondays that feel like lonely Sundays, when everyone's at home but it feels like no one is. Waking up to someone getting ready to go or waking up early to be the one to, every step heavier- don't think about it. I thought about it and each time it all goes back to me. My head it argues in silent, every conclusion the same; how I was never meant for this. I should be on my own but no one ever made it felt like I exist in my own skin until I met him. I'd blame how I was raised but he brings every vulnerability in me out. I still get teary but my home should be where I am and I'm to stay behind. Don't ask, I wouldn't answer. Every word is a lump in my throat set to trigger every tear I hold in. Though I know my eyes are loud enough to pierce through him.

Body stone cold, inside I'm blazing. 

Don't go but I want you to.

-riri-