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.