I cried and I begged,

Frantically searching beneath this strange bed.

An overwhelming sense of dread,

Yearning for a home, comfortable and familiar,

To lay down my weary head.

I sighed in relief,

Regret had held me tight.

There it was,

The intricate brass key,

Its weight familiar in my palm,

A comfort at last, a moment of calm.

The key slipped into the lock with ease,

But something felt wrong—

I could feel it in my bones,

A shiver rising with the chill in the breeze.

A sanctuary once beautiful and bright,

Now stood old, tattered,

Draped in a lonely shade of blue light.

With each step, echoes grew from the walls,

Forgotten memories rose as I walked down the halls—

Whispers, laughter, soft sighs—

Behind too many unfamiliar doors,

The creaks of the floorboards filling the air with unease.

Clothes several sizes too small,

It was time to leave once and for all.

The walls closed in,

And with every inch, I lost my breath,

The roof beginning to cave in.

I stood there, frozen in shock,

Realizing I hadn’t known—

My body tangled in ivy that had overgrown.

The key they’d given me still fit the lock,

But the house no longer felt like home.