it starts as if a fantasy
every box checked
he’s perfect
don’t you know
slowly…
deliberately…
it becomes a trap
from which you
can’t escape
easily
you become disabled
in the head
so you’ll stay
out of need
still thinking it’s love
but knowing something’s off
the courage and independence
fighting to be recognized
that’s not love
it’s a cage
mistook nice
as being invested
mistook attentive
for genuine care
but the details of todays
are boring
the atmosphere thick
with silence
the possibilities become a dead end
I Write Her 