There’s a knock at the door. I don’t check the peep hole. I just swing the door open and you come rushing in. This isn’t your first visit. You have been here many times before. Never invited, never welcomed. You settle right in, making yourself comfortable while I tense up. I clinch my fists. Everything inside me screams to force you to leave, but I relent.
I entertain my guest as a polite hostess would.
With your entrance, peace quietly slips out of the room. I don’t notice. I am already walking hand and hand with you down dark corridors of my mind. You are fear. You are my imagination turned dark. You dangle puppets of illusion in front of me. I am flooded with thoughts of panic and with each breathe I sink deeper in your murky water of despair.
“Oh thief of joy won’t you leave me. Haven’t you robbed me enough?”
You stand quietly, leaning against the wall watching as the anxiety washes over me. It feels like days of unending sadness but you’ve only been here mere minutes.
“You ask me to leave but this prison you built is of your own design –
decorated with the worries of tomorrow.”
I gather myself. With each breathe I realize that I have a choice. I can let you fool me with tricks and lies or I can believe that more is to come. Better days are ahead.
You are smoke in mirrors. A morning mist drying up with the sunny rays of hope.
With each brick, I tear apart the walls of lies that weigh down on me. When I am done there will be no more space for you to stay. You hiss something as you go. Another fabrication I’m sure. No time to listen as peace settles back in, filling the spaces of this room.
My heart only has the capacity to entertain one.
I entertain my guest as a polite hostess would.
With your entrance, peace quietly slips out of the room. I don’t notice. I am already walking hand and hand with you down dark corridors of my mind. You are fear. You are my imagination turned dark. You dangle puppets of illusion in front of me. I am flooded with thoughts of panic and with each breathe I sink deeper in your murky water of despair.
“Oh thief of joy won’t you leave me. Haven’t you robbed me enough?”
You stand quietly, leaning against the wall watching as the anxiety washes over me. It feels like days of unending sadness but you’ve only been here mere minutes.
“You ask me to leave but this prison you built is of your own design –
decorated with the worries of tomorrow.”
I gather myself. With each breathe I realize that I have a choice. I can let you fool me with tricks and lies or I can believe that more is to come. Better days are ahead.
You are smoke in mirrors. A morning mist drying up with the sunny rays of hope.
With each brick, I tear apart the walls of lies that weigh down on me. When I am done there will be no more space for you to stay. You hiss something as you go. Another fabrication I’m sure. No time to listen as peace settles back in, filling the spaces of this room.
My heart only has the capacity to entertain one.