The ducks didn’t return to the lake after the storm.

The color has drained.

I should’ve known better.

Maybe I did know what I was walking into.

I knew it was a trap.

I figured if I was trapped, daily decisions would be taken out of my hands.

I thought he was there to save me.

He wasn’t.

He didn’t want to save me.

He wanted to be God.

He wanted to be the only one I knew.

He wanted to peal apart every piece of my body. He wanted to hold my dry bones in his hands.

I regret every time I found myself irritated in the presence of loved ones. My living body resides between four grey, blood-crusted walls.

I can’t go home.

I want to go home.