I Don't Live at Home Anymore

i don't live at home anymore
with the (sometimes)
       quiet murmurs
       smooth skin
                  watching eyes
                  helpful
                              criticisms
i was like a child                     (happy)
you said,        SO LOUD
                      (i'm embarrassed of you)          
so,
            i tried to be (qu)aint
            and (i) wait(e)d
      a long (t)ime
      you know,
like skinner's rats                   who killed themselves
pressing the bar
only they           may have
           known what they wanted while
           i
 (you) buried (me)
           myself
           under a heap of dirt           so dark
and
i don't live at home anymore
i drive right past to
          four walls
          and a bed
with the
                loneliness (is it worse)
                darkness of the hours i can't sleep
                woken by thoughts because
       IT'S SO QUIET HERE
       (is it better)                 and i'm so tired but
my friends say
i seem like myself again
                                  (under that heap of dirt
                                  what began to grow?)
           these streets feel unfamiliar
     (is it the same) city
if you're not here?
                          who was it living
                          under the dirt
                          struggling to breathe?
                                                           (was it me?)
i'm sick and move like a million bricks
                                        are on my feet
                                                      so far
                                         and
i don't live at home anymore
                     but the distance
                                    i think
                            is the same.