She would pick up the pieces, leave home
Go on foot, what it took to be free metaphysically.
She was in a daze, it came time for a change
As she tread. Top-heavy, against concrete she felt nothing

She would throw a dish, to get a reaction, push
The limits, she would react to the situation--
Justify a loss of morale with a dysfunctional family;
She knew she wouldn't last on foot, but transcended the door anyway

It was then that she knew she would not be able to flee for a spell,
It would be 6 years of angst, rebelling until she could let go

Faced with the reality of acting rashly, her eyes bore a hole
Into her skin, she found incisions. In captivity, met her own gaze,
Seeing a person she'd never met; she couldn't muster the strength
To tell them it wasn't worth leaving, in bare feet.

She became accustomed to feeling glum, it was routine
To get up and get gone, she longed to see the sun

She would flee this incarceration under
Terms of endearment, she broke away through
Unlocked doors, she acted upon haste, swayed by the possibility
Of defining, what it was to be free

It was all catching up, she was no longer in her comfort zone,
She was wrenched up into the world and wouldn't conform

A survivor with Stockholm Syndrome wept
As she knew the auburn leaves were turning, deserting
She was in a daze, it came time for a change
As she tread. Top-heavy, against concrete she felt everything