Hideaway

There’s a lot I wanted to do,

but somehow my feet stayed still.

Days slipped through my fingers

like sand I forgot to hold.

People ask where I’ve been—

I tell them I’m “fine,”

living in a city I built

out of excuses and empty rooms.

But the walls keep growing thicker,

closing in like a quiet storm.

What used to be my safe place

became a prison I can’t break out of.

And in the silence,

I wish I’d never walked away

from the people who cared.

My mind drags me down familiar roads,

ones I swore I’d never travel again—

pulling me back each time

I try to climb out.

I’m not my friend anymore.

I’m my own enemy,

fighting a battle inside a room

with no doors,

hoping one day

I’ll finally find the strength

to leave my hideaway behind

and come home.