Under His Roof

Three years in…

Still calling it love.

(still believing…)

I learned the sound of his footsteps,

Learned when to stay quiet.

Learned how to read the room

Before his mood decided.

I stopped calling it fear,

Called it “keeping the peace.”

I stopped missing my old life,

Said this was normal for me.

(normal… normal…)

He says he loves me,

Says I’m safe right here —

But safety doesn’t feel like this.

(no… it doesn’t…)

I’m living under his roof,

Under his rules, under his eyes.

Every promise feels rehearsed,

Every kiss comes with a lie.

I call it love to survive,

I call it fate to get through.

But love shouldn’t hurt like this —

Not the way that it does with you.

He smiles when others are watching,

Plays perfect, plays kind.

But behind closed doors,

I’m always crossing invisible lines.

He says I’m lucky he stayed,

Says no one else would.

I don’t see the cage yet —

I just know I misunderstood.

(or so he says…)

I tell myself it’s my fault,

That I ask for too much.

But love shouldn’t feel like walking on glass

Every time he touches me.

(glass…)

I’m living under his roof,

Under his temper, under his name.

Every apology sounds the same,

Just dressed up in shame.

I keep shrinking to fit,

Keep bending the truth.

But love shouldn’t hurt like this —

Not the way that it does with you.

I don’t see bars,

But I don’t leave.

I don’t hear chains,

But I can’t breathe.

If this is love,

Why do I disappear?

Why do I feel safer alone

Than I do when you’re near?

I’m living under his roof,

But I’m starting to see the cracks.

Every rule, every lie,

Every piece of myself I lack.

The illusion is breaking,

The truth cuts through.

If this is love —

Then what is it doing to me?

What is it turning me into?

Three years in…

And something’s wrong.

Love shouldn’t feel like a prison.