Drawing:  Anthony Gormley

Anthony Gormley_shadow_room

Silently I creep

down the crowded corridors of my mind,

tentatively

toying with the doorknobs of rooms

containing suppressed memories.

I hear them

like an overbooked hotel,

whispering

eager to crowd the hallways

in hopes of recognition and validation.

Restlessly I slumber

unwilling to commit, I strain to decipher

reluctant to open a door

recalling malaise,

despair or buried pain

The alarm sounds

silently I face the clock,

 the murmurs fade, and

 I throw back the covers,

 relieved that choice is gone.

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