Finding Myself Again - Sonnet 16

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When locked inside a room with just your thoughts,

You’d maybe like to know when you can leave;

Well, that’s how I remember it to be

For loathe to holding back and seeming lost

Of energy and raw vitality,

“A sap who sadly rusted out so young”;

Why, even now a razor cuts my tongue

To leave new space for old reality.

You see, I longed, and still I do, to roam,

To conjure hidden rooms within a place,

Unearthing little nooks and hideaways

And nestling there until they call me home,

To find a world at last outside my soul

Where I both act and feel a fraction whole.

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