Me.

I am here.

And no one knows

because I don't show

I, stash away myself

I pace fast, I pace slow

Around the room that is my mind.

Alone.

I feel alone.

Because no one sees

The way that these

thoughts, swell until they explode

and the peices lay sharp on the ground

of the room that is my mind.

Please.

Open the door.

Because these walls

stand strong and tall

they, threaten to contract and close in

no one taught me how to recruit hands to push on the walls

of the room that is my mind.

My room has hue.

Purples, pinks, and silver

but I tell them it's blue.

The scent of lemon.

Fills my nostrils

but they are sniffing for clean linen.

I hear a melody.

It sways, beats, moves

but I say that music is a rarity.

And I have LOUD ideas

bouncing. off. the walls.

but no one to share them with

No one taught me how.

People are knocking.

Thump. Pound. Rap.

Me?

I am here.

Reading How to Open a Door for Dummies

Alone Inside the room that is my mind.