This place is starting to feel less and less like home,
I'd rather be anywhere else but here at times,
Can't sleep in 'my' bed under your roof.
Things just don't feel the same,
The more I know myself,
The more I know you'll never accept me.
You've faded from my dreams about the future,
I don't see you standing by me at my best,
Or my worst.
Down the aisle,
Simply not something I can see,
Not with you by my side.
1 more year and I'll be free,
Either from you,
Or the burden of thinking you won't be there for me.
1 more year and I'll be free,
Free to cut my hair and change my name,
Either for you to call me or forget me by.
I don't want to say goodbye,
But you'll either love me or the person gone by.
Less and less like home,
I hope my fears are just fears,
Not a reality that'll be made real,
But I doubt it every time,
That you'll accept me for who I am.
1 more year and I'll be free,
Free to know what you truly think of me.

© ●•ßugz{Før}Bra¡!ns•●