therapy is hard
Somehow I had not expected that,
I was aware that I am damaged,
broken, not fit for purpose.
But I did not go to therapy expecting to be healed
I went to confess.
to show the world that I understood
that I was not made right

to offer them my shame

pain, when you live in it,
can feel ordinary,
familiar
and when the whole world feels cold
and unsafe
it becomes easy to mistake
familiar for comfortable
and comfortable becomes home

and it is instinctual to head for home,
to search the world for a place
which feels familiar.
a place where you feel you belong
exactly

but I am not purely instinct
and my mind and eyes can see
the filth that I called home for what it is,

mostly

so I give time and money and blood
to learn the differences
but it will mean forever leaving home
and that is harder than I thought.