guest in my own life

i have lived in houses that kept me, but never held me. i was a guest in my own life— told to give, but never to take. told to understand, but never to be understood. told to forgive, but never to ask why. they built my life like a cage and called it safety. locked the doors and named it protection. when their choices crushed my ribs, they asked why i could not breathe. one day, i will build a home where my dreams do not knock before entering. where i do not have to carve myself smaller to fit inside. one day, i will belong to no one but myself.