Below is a poem written by a resident at Metanoia Manor, a safe haven for victims of human trafficking. Her name is being withheld.

Escape

You cannot run from the voices inside your head; even though they’re about as real as the monsters you think live under your bed.

Can you ignore that one thing that stares you in the face? You can run as fast as you want, but just know you’ve already lost the race.

You don’t like reality, so you allow your thoughts and your mind to drift into outer space. And no matter how hard you try, your thoughts always recur back to the same place.

   Your attitude’s so bad, it leaves you with a sour taste. Don’t argue with a brick wall, it’s only your energy going to waste.

They say you can run but you can’t hide. It’s hard to admit when you’re wrong, but bite the bullet and swallow your pride.

Do it even if you do not think it can be done; you can say you tried. You know you cannot trust them again if they’ve already lied.

I’m trying to make amends with my family, but I feel as if my hands are tied.

I have no more tears, because for the past week I’ve cried. I never agreed to take this ride; but I’ve got to keep on pushing, I’ve got God by my side.