The picture of where I want to be is getting,
From the tears falling off my face.
Yelling yelling yelling.
A few days we have forgotten.
Then a month later we start speaking ill of the dead again.
And it’s yelling yelling yelling.
My sister is off at girls scouts,
And I’m stuck here,
Listening to the yelling yelling yelling.
She’s off at dance class now,
And I’m reading a book,
While they’re yelling yelling yelling.
My sister is at collage,
I’m talking to myself so I can’t hear
The yelling yelling yelling.
I’m glad she’s not here,
Yet sad too.
Sad because she’s not here to comfort me,
Yet glad, because she’s not here to tell me it’s my fault
And I don’t have to comfort her.