I have pictures on my walls

And child's clutter on my bed.

This looks like the home I knew

But it's lacking in familiarity

And I won't be comforted.

I want to gather up my things

And run far, far away.

But I am stopped before starting,

By memories of a younger me

Crying, and clutching a rucksack

As if it was a lifeline –

Of only managing to reach the park

Before fear and the stench of drunks

Overpowered my terrified mind

And turned me back.

Now I know I have nowhere to run

So escape is out of the question,

And my mind tosses and turns

In panicked desperation

As I long for a way out.