There is a room in my abyss, lined with verses of my poetry.
I have to go there—it's where I sleep.
But if I begin to read them, I get lost in my own consciousness,
These walls—my blank expression,
My mind—a home I'm trapped in.
Scared of the truth, I live in disguise.
But what if I step out?
Would I still drown, or learn to rise?
These walls may own me, but I built them first.
Maybe it's time I rewrite this verse—
"I don't fix things, I just repaint."