on the inside

Old memories are in the attic

The attic isn't small

But some leak into the upstairs

Still too fresh

To be stored away

And then there is a singular bedroom

Where a cat dozes in the center

Beneath a skylight

Where dreams shimmer down

The bathroom is next door

For nighmares to be flushed away

And a shower

For the most perplexing thoughts

Stairs spiral down

To the present

The kitchen is where the action is

Where new thoughts brew

And all is felt and seen

And then there is the door

Sometimes open wide

Inviting in the world

Sometimes bolted and locked

When it all becomes too much