there’s a suitcase in the far corner of my closet
the older one with the worn brown
checkerboard pattern and a faded luggage tag
can’t make out the name any longer
not going anywhere anyway
and if I pretend
the flattened leather handle still feels warm
probably from when you used it last
back when life was happy and our souls were stronger
sometimes when things get loud
I want to place a blanket in that suitcase,
in the far corner of my closet,
crawl inside, zip it up and lie
quietly, silently
will he find me
I want to say aloud
but I don’t dare make a sound
these days, these long days
after the first door slam, I want to bolt
run far before the terror takes hold
but no
I have to stand there and take it
stand there and stand there
stand there and fake it
place my trembling hands in my pockets
ignore my heart pounding in my ears
taste the rapid beats, choke them down
why is it getting so difficult
I’ve been doing this for years
every time I enter my closet
I give that suitcase an extra glance
maybe one day I could do it
run quick when I have the chance
when I’m first warned
place a blanket inside, make it cozy and warm
crawl inside, zip it up
lie quietly, silently battered and worn
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