Prisoner

I’m in a home where I don’t belong.                                                                   

My house is not my home. My body does not belong to me.  It is a distant stranger, yet I am trapped inside the hollows of its skin. We are enemies. Its methods of betrayal are too painful to name.                                                                                                               

If I am not to blame, why me?                                                            

This crushing emptiness doesn’t feel like my own body; Nothing is sacred anymore, yet, I am told it is not my fault. He’s an intruder. A thief in the night, who relentlessly takes until there’s nothing left. 

Ever too comfortable in his approach. Emphatically, Increasingly bold. No walls left high enough to keep him out. I never thought I would become his prey. 

Stalked. Watched. Over and over again. 

Him waiting for the prime opportunity, when I’ve let my guard down just enough to be vulnerable to attack. Me, constantly aware of every minute detail, draining every bit of me. The exhaustion leaving me susceptible to making a mistake.

Fear is an ever present companion. It races thoughts and leaves a trail of chaos in my mind. I hide the things that are seemingly enticing– maybe if I conceal enough of myself, I won’t be hurt again. I at least have to try. I protect what’s valuable, in hopes it will remain untouched this time. A locked box can still be broken into, if the lock is too weak to withstand the force.                                                                                                          

Nothing is ever enough; He knows exactly what he’s doing. Safety is elusive, and he is without consequence. He’s the criminal, but I’m the one locked in the prison cell.