My Alma Mater

Faded beige

The color of my past

I pried it out of my memory

It can’t be a part of me

It just can’t

 

I bit through my chains

As if they were pythons

“They’re out to kill me”, I screamed

I bled myself out

 

The monster wasn’t the place

It was my head

The streaks of red marked not a bloody vengeance

But the hope of an abode

 

Dusty seats, the calm after the storm

The storm was mine and mine only, but

I shamefully labelled the walls with my hate

I thought it was your fault

 

Clarity finally appeared

In minute and metal

It was supposed to be a shelter

And that exactly, it did

 

A resounding threshold

Sitting sturdy on what was once sea

It welcomed, it beckoned

 

“Come home, son”

It called

“This piece is still yours”

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