I'm in school again!

Hey bros! and babes!  For school I had to describe a place by using "mere words."  So here is a place as described with my "mere words."  (I'm quoting my new English teacher if you're wondering.)

Very few people have been here.  In-fact, nobody has ever “been” here.  Some people have tried, all have failed to enter though.  They cannot seem to find the door which will grant them passage inside.   I see them looking for the door; probing possible entries only to find themselves shut out still hoping for a glimpse inside.  Some of them, my friends, will stick around.  While others, those I do not particularly care for, will leave upon discovering that I will not grant them entry, often never to be seen again.  

The ones that stick around, the friends, will occasionally get a glimpse inside.  I never allow them to get a good of the view inside though.  I don't know why I deny them, but I do.  Maybe I am afraid of what will happen if they can come inside.  What if they start touching things and rearranging the things that I have spent so much time to set up and place exactly where I wanted?  What if they don't want to leave?  What if they come in and overstay their welcome, like a relative that parks their motor-home on your lawn and asks, “Where can I plug-in?”?  {I'm not sure about that punctuation}

Or maybe it is not that they would stay too long, but would enter and be horribly uncomfortable and terrified and leave as quickly as possible.  What if those that I hold so dear to me, entered in, and fled from me forever, repulsed and shamed to have known such a beast?  That seems like such a risk.  One that I dare not attempt.  So instead of letting my friends in, I will sit, and stare out of my windows at them while they try to find their way in.  While they try to find Alice's fabled rabbit hole so they can enter a different place.

It's when I am watching them that things will suddenly start flying around inside of my secret cocoon.  I cannot see these things flying, but I am aware of them.  They flitter to and fro, like a bird trapped in a grocery store, longing to escape.  But I cannot open my mouth to let them out.  If I do who knows what would happen?  Who knows what it would sound like?  If these things ever escaped from my den, people could become aware of what is inside, or worse yet, they could get inside.  

I find myself wanting to let these fluttering things escape and spread their open wings upon the infinite sky.  But if I did, it could be the end of me.  It could be the end of my relationships.  It could do so much harm.  So I don't speak, and I don't let people inside of my head.