I am wandering down the halls of my mind… There are doors I keep wanting to open. The ghosts of experiences that are crying for my attention. I recall them, then I slam them shut. I would rather run, than face them, even one. I built the walls, strong. Never once letting them falter, never once letting them down.

 The people.

The places.

The thoughts.

The spaces.

*

They made me… yet I made myself…

They shaped me… yet I overcame myself

Through loss and gain, my thoughts made me sane.

I played the game… and ever did I change.

First and above all Dad.

L and J, was it me or was it them?

The ground where it burned

The home which was always cold.

I didn’t belong.

I still don’t.

Yet now I’m home, and the ghosts are crying for my attention.

*

I listen as I write, waiting for what I am trying to say. Yet the thoughts remain the same.

I know what I overcame, yet that which made me  is slowly driving me insane…

*

I know the answer, yet I don’t want to hear…

It is in there, trying to form itself clear…

Is it me?

Please answer my fears…

it is, but its ok