back home

grumble grumble grumble scratch grumble grumble scratch scratch the sidewalk nails torn tearing returning with the nose on backward and opening up the symbols clash. Inside is pain the tearing nails open pink flesh one's gone two seven. You come up the stairs without anything for me. Do you ever try to run away from home when you were a kid? And you couldn't do it. I sat in a corn field for 11 hours once. I cried some. I walked home slow. It got cold and dark. Dirt under my fingernails. dried and flaking tears.