Hidden doors
8-20-24
Old wooden doors hide the Imagery
Of the very real torture and the imaginary
Of all my hearts pain and torment
And my intrusive thoughts that play every moment.
You’ll run through the halls searching for an exit
Hoping you’ll find some relief, a way to end it.
Behind each door you’ll see a monster darker than before
Each nightmare that you will abhor
And the anxiety you long to ignore
The madness that turns your depression manic
A pain so searing you can no longer stand it
The turmoil that leaves your heart drained
And your sense of self, ever strained
You’ll smile and scream in pain at the same time
And your personality you will never find
