Patterns

Habits and patterns

A prisoner in a prison I designed

Built on 2 cornerstones

Don’t trust others

And my twin fears of betrayal and rejection

These 2 stones formulate the foundation

Of my entire being

They are the basics of all I do and believe

They are my version of rose colored glasses

They are the lenses through which I see

They create and alter my thoughts and patterns

They create and shape my habits

The entirety of my personality and behavior rests upon these 2 stones

A fragile house of cards that nothing should be built upon

But I surrounded them in concrete sand and stone

Mortared the walls together surrounded by brick and stone

Reinforced beyond reason or belief

No visible joints or cracks it looks like a massive rock face

Like it has always been and will always be

So long have the walls held so long have I hid behind them

That I forget the sunshine

I forget the trees I forget the oceans

I forget all outside

I forget almost all before the walls

The memories are as a wisp of smoke

A half forgotten dream on the edge of my existence

A film you’ve seen but have forgotten

The doors rarely open and never for long

Those I let in though stay

A part of them I keep with me forever

I remember well when I built the walls

How far and wide

How high I built them

For a time once came that caused the walls to be dismantled

I was reluctant and recalcitrant

In the end they stayed though greatly diminished

It is now not impossible

Just highly improbable to get through

Weathered and worn still they stand

Battered but not broken

Just as I

Still I hide

Safe and remote

Secluded and forgotten

Blending into the background often

Just how I like it

By my own choices

My own habits

My well-worn thoughts and patterns

They wear down into the foundations

Creating a meandering path worn down into the stone

The paths are hard as granite

Smooth as glass

Slowly gently worn by the same repetitions

I don’t quite remember how to dismantle the walls

For I was not the catalyst

‘Twas my choice

But they seemed to come down slowly all of their own accord

As though not by mortal hands

She is gone now

Distant but still beloved

I wonder if another will ever come

And help the walls fall down

So that I might be free again

Free at last

Free again at last

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