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Slaughter House
I was raised in a family of no sound.
Well at most times;
Theres no hows your day,
How are you and whatnot.

When there's finally noise.
Expect something to break.
May it be a heart or sweet childhood innocence;
Replace with insecurity, resentment and existential crisis.
Why am I born
Why are they my family
Why why why WHY

For the house i grew up in.
Is not a home, more like a rage room.
But changed the walls to every family members.
Change the old appliances you beat with baseball to the youngest.

The baby, child, who has no right
To reject or complain to the "loving" she received.
She has no right, for she has no name for herself.

How can you believe in me then curse at me at the same time
Why would you say you love me but stare at me with that kind of eyes.

If this is love, then I would rather live with resentment.
For I grew up in a house of hatred, and I shall continue my family's heritage.

© Bashful