The trickling water running down the sides of the beautifully carved stone arches, rough and harsh to the outside world. Along with the grand windows of my mind, the rain falls like the thousands of worries that will flood the gardens of my home; The roses painted red as the wounds grow larger.

The dim sunlight barely peeks from under the blankets of lifelessness. The thick layers of clouds blacken the sky. The ability to move becomes so distant, like the darkened hallways of shadows as you disappear from my grasp, gasping for air with any chance soon to be lost once again.

Walking the awe-inspiring hallways of a winding path to my own solutions that become too heavy to bear, some demoralize while others vanquish any meaning of who I am. The broken tiles and mosaics become the stories of my shattered heart. Each one with its own distinctive meanings, ever shattered and quicksilver.

The thought of guidance is shunned away. Many restless nights of my own thoughts, the sound of the rain drowning out the voices that are trying to keep me at bay. The flowing, surging water runs and pours around me. I feel the rain against my skin, cooling me, washing away all the pain.

I lie there once again looking for a friend, yet the one that I long for is the very reason I worsen.

The gothic carvings, the life put into the world I see around me. I trace my fingertips along the curves and points in the walls. As their movements become living the feelings of the stories come to life. Many were chiseled and some broken over time; falling away, never to return.

The silence is so loud here it becomes insufferable. The screams of the wind wishing to be heard by the world are kept locked away in the chambers of the forest surrounding the campus of my life, filled with guilt to burden others they seek approval. Hidden are the intrusive thoughts that the wind carries, weaving through the trees like water through a sieve. Walk the gravel path so they won’t reach you, but my desire to create my own leaves me vulnerable to a vengeful world.

The sound of my own two feet running through the halls laced with the paintings of my past to the gifts of my future. The sound is too far, as if I’m chasing myself. The air thins as my eyes drift off and will no longer open.

As I search for the treasure of my mind within the hidden castle of my thoughts, I seek the inspiration that will include the next colors of my memories good or bad, black or white. Looking for the pure part of myself once again.

The world can be so hard to face, as if I must wear a mask. Never to feel joy, never to feel love, never to feel emotions, nothing but stale faces of the carved stone.

Disesteem paints the walls a thick gray. Dolor, the foundation of a stone surface I build on. The campus that I run to, the campus that I live with is worn, cold is lost, and is abandoned. The dark colors of fading joy gradually take over as the twilight to mourn, night to the day.

The water rushing around me, the light fills my eyes as it strikes and fades. The feelings pouring like the rain from above thoroughly washing me.

The rain, dripping onto my skin, the damp feeling of my clothes, my hair falling into my eyes, the slightly salty taste as the smell overwhelms me. The clattering sound of the rain hitting the ground drowns out my thoughts. My mind lays with me looking up at the sky going under the waves of intense sentiment grieving of constant wounds never to heal.

The blood paints the colors of the world around me, losing myself in the nights and days. Running into a thin line of blurring memories. The constant ache, the heart in my throat, the soreness in my arms and legs being weighed down by my thoughts. The flowers in my flooding garden wash away as the petals of red cover the land rising to the doors of my mind.

The sea of red trickles into my mind as the breath of life is swept away. My world floods into ruins as the rain stays consistent as the wind carries on. The water rises until dawn, and it creeps closer and closer each day, my mind wishing to be swept away.

Welcome to my hollow castle. I would have loved for you to stay, but you must be on your way. I wish not for you to be hurt. I mustn’t let you suffer. Run, follow the path that keeps you from the wind’s grasp, don’t pick the flowers, else they’ll pick you. Don’t listen to the rain, else it will deafen you. Run far, far until you see the colors of the day. Write me a letter, because I wish to stay. Tell me all about it from sunrise to sunset. All I seem to see is gray. The gloomy world from which I spur you. Tell me that you’re safe and that you feel roomy. I wish nothing more than for your safety in the harbor of my mind.  I long for nothing less and nothing more.

Always yours,

To me.