like a blanket surrounds me
as I walk down the familiar hallway
of my own old memories
some doors have faded
and I don't remember how to open them
or even what's inside
I just know the closed doors
hold the scary memories from before
from when I was little
being little doesn't seem
very long ago when it seems
the little me wont let me go
I see her in every room
everything from a child to a teen
she's always there
I'm supposed to leave her behind
maybe that's how I'm supposed to grow
but I can't let her go
the hallways are familiar
and I don't want to leave what I know
so here I stay
so maybe it's my choice
they tell me I choose to be a victim
maybe somewhat
so I wonder here
am I making myself stay here
alone in my trauma?
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Comments3
Great metaphor and it is hard to open doors that have no key. Hard to change what you have always been. A most existential poem.
thank you for your insight!
No one opens doors easily if they already know the horrors behind them. I have found with time, some i managed to have a peek through, some i opened and some i decided it was best i never opened again, but each person is different. I totally understand the feeling and emotion in this poem. All the best
Thank you, it seems some doors open themselves and drag me in...
For me that is because of the longing of trying to understand why it all happened and why you, for me i learnt not to go through the doors until i was ready to face what was there, and i thought i was capable of dealing with it. It took years and some doors i am still yet to open, all the best
thank you
You are very welcome
I still have vague memories of trauma, but I don't think I can reject it because it's the path I've taken.
Rejecting seems to take more effort than accepting, it's the cards we've been dealt
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