Running from the
chipped paint and
peeling wallpaper.
The exposure.
The naked vulnerability.
Chasing dreams
that scare me
only to find grounding
in fear.

The dripping faucet
was acid on my skin
in streams down my face.
A feeling of warmth
that burned.
Scarred.
A sudden change.
Please, not again.

The ceiling caves in —

I can never show anything
but the reflection of a life
that is broken.
No matter how the claws
shred me
from underneath my
own skin…

Trapped in escape.