I was living a real life
escape room,
except the puzzles
were a lot more obscure.
I was lining the walls
with my own tear floods.
My own dripped blood.
Fingertips scraped down to nubs
but it was no good.
Bit down on my lips
to feel some pain.
To feel anything.
How can you escape
when the outside
scares so much?
When you feel
so out of touch?
When just thinking
turns your mind to mush?
These thoughts rush
through the room;
A wind blown
from a long hidden
undiscovered opening.
I slow my mind to a single tick.
Waiting, on that breath
for the slow hand of death.
I wait and wait.
Then my mind cinema starts whirling.
Projector beams, light on a blank screen
replays memories.
The key to this mystery.
A way to break free.
I read the books that are strewn around
looking for clues in every scrap found.
I search the storeroom
in my minds clouded view,
and I find notes scribbled.
Feint tears trickle down my cheeks.
Those notes,
scraps of poems,
memories of love,
memories of hope.
They guide me.
I see a light shining,
glinting above me.
High on an uninteresting shelf.
A key.
The answer
to my dreams,
now just to find the door
and I'll finally be free.
Thanks for reading
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