Candyland

You housed me for years
along the banks of the Mystic River,
among the Colonial brick
and manicured lawns in Candyland,
where you narrowed my horizons
and suffocated my desires.

You were cryptic in your lessons,
shallow in your perspective,
cautious with your criticisms
as I narrowed my search
for normalcy.

You sharpened my fangs
when I needed them dulled.
You limited my mind
when I needed it to expand.
You broke my spirit
when I needed it to soar.
You trapped me in negativity
when I needed nothing but peace.

Soon, I ran north, to a distant land
away from the trimmed shrubs,
the blown brick,
the deadly cycle of conversations
never ending, never new
only to arrive at the same place
day and night
over and over again.

You never loved me
and I never loved you.

Goodbye, Candyland.