Once I had a friend who found her home st the bottom of a pill bottle after trying to hard to be perfect.

Once I had a friend who found her home at the butts of lit cigarettes in the frigid winter mornings.

Once I had a friend who found his home at the bottom of a bottle and nearly ended up alcohol poisoning.

Once I had a friend who found her home at the edge of a razor blade she used to tear open her skin.

Once I had a friend who found her home at the finger tips of people who claimed love, but left.

Once in had a friend who found her home in all those kesftover pieces trying to be whole again.

And no matter how hard they tried to escape each home just became more toxic than the last.