Sitting in a living room delving deep in a fantasy world
Knowing that I am somewhere that isn't here
Sick of home
Sick of school
I glance over occasionally
I see you looking at me with a weird expression on
It's not one of hate, nor one of contempt
Not one of worry, nor one of disgust
I know not what to think
Or know how to react
I finally know
This is what it feels like to be loved
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