Structure.
Stability.
And sometimes… beauty.
With the chambers locked tight,
The normal seeker,
Would believe I was well.
However.
To the ones who care
Who dive deep into my rooms
Who pick the locks,
Who guess at the combinations countless times,
Those are the ones who know.
Normality is but a mask.
Curved lips are pure trickery.
Yet barely anyone would possess such knowledge.
Locks are meant to hold objects within.
Combinations are but a secret.
So why let someone understand?
Friendship.
Love.
Maybe even a partner in thinking.
The possibilities are endless.
But they are also remain dangerous.
Deceitful.
Heartbreak.
Loss.
All of that and more,
That is what keeps myself at bay.
You may think that
This writing
Is nothing but
Useless
Whiny
Terrible.
But for the ones who know.
The ones who care.
The ones who figured me out.
Then it makes
Perfect sense.