When Love Became a Cage

He said love was trust, 

and I wanted to believe it— 

so I handed him the key 

to every soft part of me. 

At first, his words were warmth, 

a sun I stood beneath 

just to feel seen. 

But slowly, the light burned. 

What I thought were arms, 

became walls, 

what I thought was safety, 

became silence pressed against my breath. 

He called control “care,” 

called my trembling “love.” 

And I— 

I called it normal, 

because I didn’t yet know 

love shouldn’t make you small. 

When I finally broke free, 

the air hurt my lungs— 

freedom felt foreign, 

like light after years underground. 

But I am learning 

that my skin is still mine, 

that my voice can rise 

even when my heart shakes. 

He took chapters from me, 

but he doesn’t own my story. 

I am still writing. 

And this time, 

the ink is mine.

Paige Williams

Paige Williams is a Psychology major and Creative Writing minor in the Class of 2028. She is passionate about mental health advocacy and hopes to work in a school as a counselor or social worker, supporting students as they navigate their emotional and personal growth. In her free time, Paige enjoys writing, creative projects, and spending time with friends.