*I open the cupboard under the stairs,
fetching my bag from its hiding place.
It waits,
So patiently,
for me to name the day;
the day I leave for good,
and today,
is that day.
I check the contents,
just to make sure,
all is in order.
I open the front door,
applying pressure,
as I cautiously pull.
My face is contorted with concentration;
squinted eyes;
clenched teeth.
It must not make a noise.
It cannot make a noise.
please,
don’t make a noise.
I’m outside.
This is it…
I stand.
I think.
I muse the future.
What will they think,
of me?
Will they understand?
Will they sympathise?
Or will they view me as…
A symbolic abomination?
The personification of,
cowardice?
A father,
who didn’t care?
I open the cupboard under the stairs,
hiding my travel bag in the same place.
Once more I return.
Once more I indulge the monotony,
once more…
Just once more.*