The past sits on my doorstep
And cheery memories knock
With prestige on the windowpane
Once clouded over—
Isolation may not be the remedy
To drag on for years without
Thought of future harm.
I can see through the windowpane
And spring is waiting for me
To open the door—happiness
Has been patiently waiting.
I'd like to think I can step outside
And face the past without it
Sending me back inside, fearful.
I can live again without isolation;
I want to at least try.