Solitude used to be an escape route
from the chaos of life.
My room was once a safe haven
from the scary world around me.
My house used to be a welcome sight
after a long day.
None of those things are what they once were.
Being stuck in one place for 59 days does that to a person.
My house is no longer home,
the blue walls no longer friendly and welcoming.
My room is no longer safe
for the danger was not from the world around me.
It was from me.
Solitude is not an escape.
It is a prison.
As I stare at the same starless sky,
I wonder when this nightmare will end.
I wonder what is going on.
I wonder what is okay?
Am I okay?
The clicking of the keys on the keyboard of the computer
pulls me out of my thoughts.
12 new assignments.
4 assignments due.
Live meeting in 2 minutes.
Daily check-ins due.
I click on one of the daily check-ins.
How are you feeling?
The real question is what am I feeling?
It's familiar in a way,
this question and these feelings.
It reminds me of a time not so long ago
when the darkness closed in and wouldn't let go.
When all hope seemed lost.
When there was no future in sight.
I am feeling fine.
The fake smile plastered on my face,
and the aches inside take me back to
before, the one place I do not want to be.
I worked so hard to break out of the dark,
to find the stars in the night.
But I have fallen again,
once bright wings now made of ash.