The comfort of paint

[light_and_glass]

These whitewashed walls,
I tremble to think what I would find
Were I to strip the paint.
Seven years have I waited
Secluded
Applying coat after coat of acrylic
With the key buried beneath the southern side of the chamber.
Without a chance of escape I feel safer.
It's when I can't remember the sound of laughter
That My heart beats faster as I weep in the corner.
Cradling myself tighter and tighter and tighter
I can feel the thoughts in my head get louder.
They scream like the whistle of the wind in winter.

Until the fume disintegrates and dissolves into the empty spaces,
Finding my nostrils welcome it with a deep breath,
Lightening my head and reminding me how to forget.