Back to my domain.
a homestead which gives me company.
my illusion of security transpired in these brick-built walls.
outside these walls, my presence remains unaccompanied
by your safety.
Back to my domain.
a chalet that diffuses the radiance of my tranquillity.
air particles collided with unnerved comfortability.
Yet the walls are soaked with sonnets of desolation
Named “limerence.”
Back to my domain.
a residency with carved assets of repetitive unrequicy
Flowers carefully overpowered in a transparent, revealed entity.
Slowly withering away as her owner neglects her bright yellow contingency
Sitting next to me.
I look around my domain.
Mirrors around me everywhere I glance.
The walls, the ceiling, the rusted carpet.
And I am reminded
That I have become
this domain.