Home

You didn't give me shelter. 
You gave me a cage.

You gave me whitewashed walls and 
called it a home as I walked warily 
on eggshells. 
Yet I learned to crave the quiet. 
I preferred to live in silence versus 
hearing one of them crack. 

The sound of them shattering 
was somehow as loud as your palm 
against my face.

June 17, 2025 by Ash Ochoa Poetry Categories: My PoetryTags: Cage, fucked, Home, life, Memories, Poetry 5 Comments

Home

January 6, 2023 by Ash Ochoa Poetry Categories: My PicturesTags: Home, Lantern, Mantel, Photography 6 Comments

Stranger

There was a stranger 
in my home, 
and they hid perfectly.

Lurking and snaking
through the shadows,
amusing themselves 
with the thrill of 
going unnoticed.

They watched silently. 

Absorbing and observing 
the miniscule details,   
adding to their list 
of evidential flaws. 

And they searched intrusively. 
 
Prying and peering 
into the failed bits 
and miserable pieces 
of my daily life.

There was a stranger 
in my home, 
and that stranger was me.