The Box

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There is a box, in a closet in the back of my mind. It's a closet with a padlock and an alarm system. When anyone ventures too close it shuts down, fires the red alarm. What is in that closet? Is it my skeletons? Why does it hide? Who dares breach its borders? It is my life, it is my soul. Hidden behind locked doors to protect it from the people that would see it destroyed. It is my memory, it is my regrets. Why? Why is it locked away? Why do I sneer and scowl at it when it threatens to appear? Why? Why am I afraid? Why? Why do I fear the emotions it brings? Why? Why dont I want to remember? Why? Why is that box my worst nightmare? Why? Why do I hide The Box?

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