Every day, I sit and stare

at you talking about what others consider nonsense. 

I'd call you a wordsmith,

Staged-like words flowing off the tip of your tongue. 

I hunch in the corner of the group,

The library is my favorite thing

A book is my favorite listener

A library is a place of freedom

They have everything

Snacks? 

Are you hungry?

There is a vending machine

I can’t leave

How could I?

I love how my nose freezes off when I walk outside in winter

How when I go out in the spring, I sink in the mud up to my thighs

People always ask me, 

Why don’t you want to leave? 

They ask this because everyone 

      wants 

They were so awful to me,

And yet

They seemed to care.

They manipulated,

Twisted,

Hurt,

And destroyed me.

And yet I can't 

Seem to let them go.

Even knowing

How badly they could

I wish I could,

You know

Just let things go

But my head

Keeps going

going 

going

going

gone.

Never to be the same again

Thoughts during the day turn to daydreams 

I'm bound to this 
Frame of mind 
For the time that has passed 
Leaves more and more 
Of a mark on my 
Soul 

TITLE: Saudade

PROMPT: “Leave” (End with “And now I know why I can never leave”)

It's just a house, they all say.

It's NOT just a house. 

Not to me, it's not. 

It's my home. 

This is where I learned, everything.

You love to paint.

You teeter on the line between

Hedonism and Asceticism

with every move of your fingers

each shape you make in the clay

Each word is a chain

Wrapping around me

Trapping me in this idea

You have created

There are no keys to unlock

Me from your grasp

Only my words

Can undo your chains

But I'm tired

Of fighting