Those four walls weren't my own

The paint ever so slightly

A different shade of lonely.

The carpet a little more

Worn down

The closed door just a tad heavier

More final than it should've been.

The air was colder

Not by much

But by enough to notice.

The dark creeped up a tiny bit

Quieter than it should've done

Encasing a bit too tightly.

My eyes don't register this place

As home

Or as safety

Keeps my soul awake at night

A little more on edge

That it should be.

It didn't feel like reality but

It was all becoming real.