Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Dawn Breaks, and Brings Unpleasant Surprises

I wear a key around my neck,

silver and small,

belonging to a door that only I can see,



everyone needs some place to escape,

and that door is mine.

Just a little place,

where I can place my problems aside and delve truly into devotion to myself,

and I suppose,

to whatever I choose,

the release of breathing space,

with pink skies and the constant reassurance that I am doing better.

This morning, I rejoined the world,

rejoicing with great sarcasm at the sight of another day,

“but it’s okay” I told myself,

because my neck holds emancipation,

and all I must do is open the door and leave the world behind and…

The key was gone.

My throat was free of chains but tight and constrained.

My hands slid desperately under the pillows and the sheets,

pleading with the key to reappear,

as I looked over my shoulder and saw the door crumble to the ground.

Paradise, lost,

escape, impossible,

and the real world growing bigger all the time,

crowding around me,

with sharp claws and sharp reminders of how enclosed I truly was.

My hands,

hopeless around my neck,

calling to a key that had been stolen in the night,

and a door that was no more,

ravens sitting on my desk, atop my vitamins,

crowing strange things that didn’t make sense.



“Stream evermore for clear skin bestie!”

I choked myself to exhaustion,

just to see if it would make the world a little clearer when I returned to consciousness,

but alas,

the same dismal darkness remained,

as I truly always knew it would.

I fall to the floor,

weeping at the remains of my damned door,

mourning the morning relief of turning the key,

feeling a relief I have tried and failed many times to explain.

My best friend clears strands of hair from my eyes,

mumbles something ineffective about “Darling, don’t cry”,

but it isn’t enough,

because the shadow of myself is staring from the mirror and I am unable to disguise my disgust at her presence.

Hopes may rise on the grasmere,

but Hunnybee,

you’re not safe here,

and maybe you never were,

because the world is grotesque,

and now you’ll be seeing it in 3D.

I would take you to the loveliest spot that man hath ever found,

but we’ve been robbed and I don’t have it in me to protect you right now.

Don’t you ever learn the lessons?

Truly, that door just brought you trouble,

but you long for it,

lashes coated with your crying as you howl alone on the bedroom floor,

because it’s such a small thing to everyone else,

but you gave yourself away again, for nothing.

The door was never just yours,

you shared it,

and then you act surprised when it disappears?

I’m shouting, very loudly,

but my voice shakes when I see you crying,

because I know that you know,

and I know that you never mean it to go this way,

but maybe it’s time to accept that it always will?

A thief in the night,

took something they had no right to,

as the duolingo owl swept high across the skies,

delivering dreams that tasted of my old tongue and the new,

and I can suppose I could dream in the daytime too,

but it will feel so empty.

So lonely.

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