Know the Cost

It will get worse

before it gets better.

Gently opening the door

so it won’t creak.

Sliding under,

slipping into darkness.

Coat hems

brush against

disheveled hair.

Hoping against hope,

absence

unnoticed,

undetected.

Wanting to vanish,

evaporate.

There would be

tears,

crying,

apologies,

later.

Now,

only shouting

and darkness.

The world

in a child’s eye.

Home

supposedly,

the safe space,

the best place.

It’s not,

nor has

it ever been.