My inner mental room

Close your eyes and imagine a place:

Always spiral stairs from the entrance- an oak wooden door

Accessed from a hilltop, but the building is ethereal

So as not to ruin the landscape.

No one else can come here; they do not know the way.

Inside is solitude, but always a happy place;

It knows that I need to be alone

To find peace with myself again.

It is always light, with the light of early morning/early spring

Seeping in through the windows

And casting angular rays, in which I always stand, or sit.

It is warm, but fresh.

It is small but has everything I need:

A comfy chaise lounge, upon which I can be restful, if needed

But can also be bright and awake.

I can look at my life from the correct angle.

There is even a television; I can play videos back to myself,

Decipher what needs to change- make it melt away.

Then play it the right way.

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