Ptsd

In a house, in a room. Walls surround, contain the doom. Closing in to trap a mind. Darkness fills to kill the light. In a house, in a room. Ceiling traps these painful wounds. The box containing echoes of every scream. Of every broken promise, of every faded dream. In a house, in a room. You see yourself lurking in the gloom. Behind shadows of sharp cornered walls. The edges soften to ease the fall. The mind craves light but cannot see past the cold dark structure of the real me.