I found myself that day.
Sitting on the edge of fate.
Its hands held me enough to steady my motions, but left the room to escape. At night my mind raced through those dark halls, stripped, barren, searching. I spent years searching for a door that would open, until I realized the only way to get out was to destroy the walls on my own.
And so I did.
There were dandelions, blue skies, the fresh cut grass. But the air lingered with a smell not of home.
What is home? Home was the place I didn’t know.
Out in the utmost open fields, 4 walls consumed me. Voices echoed deep in the chasms of my mind, day in and day out.
Trapped in a cage of recurrent sameness.
I felt everything and nothing at once.
Cursed with a lust for what the world said I couldn’t have.
What you said I could never be.
“Respect is earned when you do what you’re told,” you’d say.
And what a crock of shit that was.
Force-fed fear dipped in viscid deceit to keep me in my place.
Being strong was a sin, being different was detrimental to my future. That’s what you said.
But that’s not what I heard.
I heard the hesitation under your breath, as if you knew what already lived inside me.
And so I left.
A dream, 3 boxes, a bag.
A break through the walls with no looking back.