there are no walls closing me in, no dark closets in which i’ve been sealed for a petty theft of peanut butter cookies, nothing like a cave or tunnel or devil’s punch bowl to horrify me.
instead there is stupidity, greed, insidious control, expectations of submission that i had no say in, no desire for, and that i never swore to uphold or honour or embrace.
i have breath that comes in ragged wheezes, anxiety that eats my brains and keeps me abed. voices that whisper and infants that scream at night. if only i could stay wrapped in my cocoon of sheets. in silence. if only i would stay.