lyricsarepoetry
There was something about the place that made it feel unsafe. No. No, everything about the place made it feel unsafe. I knew I needed to get away. Everything from the stink of alcohol and cigarette, to the prickly green plant on the window sill. I wasn't safe. No one was safe here. I had to get out. And more importantly I had to get him out.
The future was prosperous, that's what everyone told me. Things would improve, everything was going to get better. I wasn't sure I believed that. How could everything get better? When everything was as bad as it currently was and things were steadily falling further and further down hill how could the future possibly be prosperous?