Locked within her secret room, she sits with her back against the wall; there is no where left to run, her knees against her chest; there is no one left to impress. Their footsteps are heard from every side, but they will never break down the walls. They try with pounding fists and kicking feet, but she will not be touched. She stares into the vast darkness that chews and swallows her whole. It keeps her safe within its hunger and protects her from what is evil. The warm air of her secret box is a change from the cold world that creates snow in her veins. When time runs out, the walls shimmer away. I open my eyes and exist in the world of the real things.
March 10, 2012