I used to hate the town I grew up in.
I ran away.
I buried my family, friends and a nightmare of a past
so
deep
in my head
when I convinced myself that
moving 700 miles away would make me
comfortable with my own flesh.
I see it all much clearer now.
While I did need to get away,
I don't hate anymore,
not like I used to.
I wish I could stop running into you
but this town is so god damned small.
My Hate Has Followed Me.
My Hate Has a New Name.
I wanna go home now.
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