I’m closed, once left open…inside now – I’m concealed, not revealed. i have places in me, my castle, that cry and weep, places that smile and those that I locked the last time, doors that I will not open anymore, for wolves and tears await me there.
I have places that i sit in, in the middle of the floor and look at the walls around me – only to think. Those where the wind blows through the windows, where curtains dance. Those that have no doors, only entrances, with the lights broken and dark inside.
I have your gifts that you have given me, with me, in my room. They are on the shelf above my head. There are only a few left – each day I wake to find one is missing, only with a note behind to tell me which room it is now in.
I find them but sometimes I cannot bring myself to enter some of the rooms, especially the ones with sounds coming from them, sounds that remind me, sounds that can drown me…
I am sometimes pulled into the dark rooms by the ruthless dogs in this place I reside, they tear my cloths as i struggle and slide down old wooden corridors into the dark places.
this is why when i can, i lock as much up as i can -or i will taken back, unwillingly.
