The wall on my left proves to me that there is still an outside world.
The wall above me reminds me that my sister isn't in my room.
The wall behind me brings back memories outside in the living room.
The wall to my right shows that I'm still hiding behind closed doors.
I mask behind these doors, ever so slightly, I lie.
Really, my thoughts lie in my bed with me at night and my eyes close as I try to remember why
I keep saying I've found it. My place, my person, my people. But am I lying?
To find yourself is a process, to find your people is a climb, and to find your person seems.. meaningless.
My thoughts take me back to a place where I'm warm. A place where I feel safe, secure, maybe even somewhere my mind stays quiet for a couple hours.
To have those hours back, what I'd do to feel at home again.
Because these walls are what makes up a home and these people are my home but lately you've been making my home feel more like a simulation - somewhere we go to stay safe while you hide away.
I hide, but not comfortably. I go to school and put on a show for the world to see.
A lovely show isn't it?
If only those walls felt more alive.
These walls are getting to hard to climb.
Maybe I'll find how to reach above them, in time, but for now, I'll stay here, with my four walls.
