Under the stairs

My thoughts are strong and heavy

So i put them under the stairs

I close the door, I lock the lock

And reinforce with chairs.

—

I turn and walk away

From that god awful pit

It’s time to eat my breakfast

But there’s no place to sit.

—

I look at the door

Not considering the view

But what’s beyond my field of vision

A nauseating stew.

—

I make a galling choice

To breakdown the barricade

With my hand on the handle 

I battle feeling scared

—

I confront the thoughts and feelings

I say “I need to speak.”

“And you are going to listen.”

I battle feeling weak

—

I fulfill half a solution

When i rant and i moan

The other half’s to keep on living

Not to dwell here, all alone.