the plates arent stacked neatly in the cupboards but the plants are lined neatly in a row on the window sill. the fridge isnt stocked with food but the desk is neat and orderly. the door is hanging off the hinges. the door is locked. the door is kicked in. the door doesnt exist. but we do. as two broken people. looking through the window in the room where we locked away the best versions of ourselves. the ones that dont scream and shout and kick in doors and upturn the desk. the ones that dont cheat and lie. the ones that dont have secrets that will break them.