Thursday, November 21, 2013

Come Inside.

Come.
Hold my hand and walk-in,
Mind your head, and mind your feet,
I am sorry if it smells weird, I am so used to it, I forget.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
But don’t touch anything. Not yet.
Let me quickly lock the door once.
I don’t allow visitors here anymore. Not everyone gets this place.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
Let me show you a cup-board,
There are many of these here. This one is of lies.
You can go through them if you like, but you would not like what you find,
No souls were hurt though as the cupboard was filled. Okay, maybe a few.
But it has not always been like that

Come.
Look under the bed there is a bag
I hide it so someday I can forget it. It has all my fears.
It has spiders and monsters at the bottom, but on top it’s mostly people.
It has a few I could fight- of heights & the deep blue sea.
And some I believe I can’t ever win.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
See my reflection in the mirror.
The mist makes me look weird. Since I was young I’ve tried to wipe the mist
But it doesn’t go away. Sometimes I feel there might be no mist.
I think maybe I am the weird reflection. Am I? Don’t answer. I won’t believe you.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
Look at the walls. Aren’t they beautiful?
They are patchy I know. But even the patches are my favorite colors.
Others painted them with their colors once. I allowed them to.
I tried hiding their paint with mine when they left. No one but me paints these walls.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
See this locked room.
Inside I’ve dumped everything that my soul couldn’t carry.
It has my rage and greed and envy and pride. And all the people I hurt with these.
I lock it and the thick wooden door holds the voices inside.
At times, the lock breaks and the voices start seeping out. Happens quite often.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
Here near the hearth. It is the warmest place in here
It is where I spend most of my time- it has my friends & stories, my ideas & ambitions
And it has the white flower. That I know will grow into greatness.
I tend to it every-day. It is unique and beautiful but it is very weak.
You can water it some-day. I won’t mind that if you do.
But it has not always been like that.

Come.
Now show me how your head looks from inside.