Here I sit, at the base of my confinement.
Looking up, I see the stones that have slowly been accumulating.
Stress, fear, pain, sadness-all there, all locking out light, life, love.
In the beginning, they were just a circle at my feet.
But over time, the walls have grown taller, enclosing me in the prison of my mind.
Sometimes, when I strain my neck upwards, I glance the sun,
Peeking out between the clouds.
The sun comes in many forms: a hug from my mother, a "what they do" from my father, kind words from a friend.
And when this sunlight appears, my face is warmed and my soul is revived.
But it seems that all too often this warmth is fleeting.
Gray clouds cover the distant opening of my stone tower.
And with these clouds, the stones grow cold.
Perhaps someday I will be free...