Concrete hugs

They say “Home is where the heart is” but that’s not true. Home is where the broken hearts go to heal, it’s where empaths go to say “yo how do I deal?” Home is where you can get lost in that made up world you created. Where home walls proceeded then my front doors, I’m depleted. I feel like I’m missing out in life, but life keeps messing with me. When I pull off my property line, I get into my prosperity mind and my positivity goes blind and then I’m on auto pilot. I shut the world out because I’ve breathed in to much of it’s poison. The good ones are gone or ones like me tried to absorb the pain but instead everything started to drain, disapate makes you not want to participate. Unhealthy link to the house, but with violence hate and plauges, ya go ahead and count me out. So I head home, I start to come alive for I know momentary silence from the berated world and off to the one I’ve created, where everyone isn’t so jaded, where we didn’t feel invaded, having a good time getting faded. But until my world is reality home is where I’ll be, for the comfort these concrete walls give, feels nothing like that cold hard world we live in.