Do I just need fresh air
Will I be better elsewhere
Or is it that
My lungs are diseased
That the problem is in me
That even with a change of scenery
The badness will stay with me
And I’ll be this way wherever I go?
There’s only one way to know
The answer to that:
Leave
And don’t look back
Originally published on Hijacked Amygdala here.
Treacle Heart 