My Prison was a Person,
And I thought I had finally found home.

Strange? Isn’t it?
Unrealistic attachments,
Formed by simply sharing,
One another’s body heat.

Result of which I was left with this unexplainable cringe, this void,
But still I was craving to stay,
With you.
Until I passed out.
And you threw me on the other side of
Our queen-sized bed.

My Prison was an uncomfortably magical place,
A place where I lay my head to feel at peace,
but when it came to speaking out loud of our romance.
My throat itched to even throw a
Monosyllable.

Tasting your breath inside my mouth
I burnt my tongue a several, maybe a hundred times.

Did you notice? Did you try to stop me from getting sick?
Sickness that came from sucking this poison.
A poison called agony,
Agony that I dearly adore?

My Prison was a Person,
And I thought I was finally home.

Words and Photo by Akula Sharma.