With a person you hate and wishing they were dead. And when they go to the bathroom the toilet flush is an agonizing disturbance, and their footsteps like trampling on your mother's grave. You want out, but theyre there and they know you hate it, and you want to sleep without their warmth. What once was comforting is now suffocating, their reassurance and notion of love, cruelty.
You want out, out, out ,out, out onto a dead field with no rose and no shine, just like you always imagined, just like your dreams