I was so excited to call this new place our home,
to create memories and grow our family,
to look back to this place and know it brought us
This place is no longer my happy place,
and I no longer look forward to the drive home.
Instead, I find excuses to be anywhere but
All I see is the place in the living room I found out,
and the computer screen with all I had missed,
and the space on the kitchen floor where my legs gave out.
This place now fills my chest with anxiety,
twists my insides until they’re so knotted up
I gag on the broken promises and ugly images,
Maybe I need more than a week and maybe not,
either way I bear the consequences,
feel them everywhere despite not having a say in
while you find peace is no longer hiding secrets.
This place used to be my place to escape,
to breathe freely and feel safety;
and now I fucking hate it.
I don’t know if that will ever change.