My Life, Part 1.

I come from a city that was built with bricks,
A city that has had the hottest summer days and the coldest winter nights,
A city where turning the other cheek is the biggest mistake one could ever make.

I come from a father who sees himself as a poor man’s philosopher because he is poor and a philosopher.
I come from a mother that loves me to death as any mother would but you could never tell by her loud and demanding voice.

But while I do have loving parents my life is far from better than average,
I come from loneliness; I rarely receive texts or calls from my friends even members of my own family.
In my room I am surrounded by books, games, and many things but what is the point when there is no one to share it with?
I used to accept loneliness as a way to protect me from harm, to protect me from those who would hurt me physically and emotionally but now I’ve realized my mistakes.

I come from a home that feels more like an island separated from the rest of civilization even though I live in an urban city.
All I ask is someone, anyone that I can talk to, that I can relate to, that understands me.





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