The House in the Middle of the Road
one
(tw for domestic violence)

There is a comfort in a porch light
How it welcomes us into homes unfamiliar
Following the road signs of a new relationship and keeping between the caution lines
We process the yellow as warmth instead of warning
Don’t see the pathway pre painted to swallow us whole
We are drawn to the light
Because we are taught that light is our salvation
Centered over a doorway like a third eye
Windows black like bars but we don’t see the prison
Just the warmth overhead, like an angler fish, luring us in
Before the door slams shut behind us and the beatings begin.