Why do I continue to torture myself?
The logical part of me knows better.
The emotional doesn't.
My brain is telling me I'm an idiot.
I'm being laughed at and used.
My heart tells me a different story.
Reaching out for the smallest shred of hope.
I have built a wicked wall.
No one, but one, can penetrate beyond.
Only one holds that key.
Open it and all will be at peace.
Keep it closed and there will always be turmoil.
Keep up your search.
A soldier to the end.
My world is done with war.
It's real.
More real than the current fight.
But, alas, I remain.
Content in my space.
Watching the door carefully.
