The place I felt the happiest was in their arms. It was like a home that I never wanted to leave. But at some point you have to leave home, sometimes it hurts to leave but sometimes its for the best. Sometimes home can become hurtful and lethal like a ticking time bomb you never know when it’s going to explode. Their arms were a home I wish I could always stay with and never grow up in because I felt so safe. Until one day when those were the same arms waving and blaming me for every little mistake. Until the day where I felt safe in their arms only when needed. Only when I needed the reassurance. Never when they needed it. Never when they needed the reassurance they were’t failing as parents. Never when they needed that perfect hug on a terrible cloudy day. Never when they were happy. The place I felt happiest was never in their hearts but in their arms.

It was a dark quiet night with only the moonlight to guide my path. I wandered up the path wondering what I had done wrong with us. What I had messed up why I always had to ruin everything. He made me regret giving my heart like it was money to the homeless man on the corner. He made me feel like I was nothing but the old wrapper flying past me on the ground. I feel like dirt. Not dirt, like nothing. He reminded me that I am nothing without him. I wanted to call but what he did I will never forgive him for. He hurt me, and I will never go back to that. It was a dark quiet night with only the moonlight to show my bruises.

The ocean, calm and collected, but yet angry and hateful. Like a killer, the ocean is beautiful but hateful. Pretty enough for you to get in but when you least expect it, it ends you. When you see the ocean you feel calm, you find it beautiful, but you never realize when the clock ticks and the water rises, that beauty will be your last sight. The blues filling your lungs, the sounds of waves crashing filling your ears, the sight of fish filling your final memories. When you fight against the waves you'll end up never winning, until those final strokes of hope, is when you realize the ocean has won. The ocean, beautiful and peaceful, but yet dangerous and lethal.

A forest, big, majestic, breath-taking. The smell of plants freshly wet after the rain. The sound of animals rushing all around. Colorful green trees, rich brown dirt underneath your feet. Birds of all colors flying above. The scent of Ivy and tree sap sticking to your clothes. The sounds of dirt under your pounding feet. The bright sun dancing in and out of the trees. The greens of the leaves, the golden honey sap oozing from the ragid bark of the tree. The sound of the wind blowing through your ears as you walk up the winding trail. The taste of the fresh air moving all around you. A forest, magical, blissful, beautiful.