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.