i am an inside child,
handles are red-hot
doors terrify me with
screams only i hear if i dare
breathe the fresh air
of scary eyes i am afraid.
mom, why am i not
normal why am i stuck
inside why am i a
hikikomori who
hides why do i cry if i try to
go outside?

I lived in a house I had dug in the mud

Loneliness was served each meal at my 4 sided table

Quiet music distracted from the roaring silence

Darkness encapsulated my eyes from the harsh light of day

Seclusion preserved my soul from feeling the angry world's tempest

Exercise sustained the need for vigor of motion

Writing was my conversation