I am home
But my mind is not
I am told to rest
Like rest is a room I can enter
While thoughts gnaw at my brain
Like bright fluorescent lights
That won’t turn off
The doors to the room
Have been sealed shut
And I am left outside
Scratching
Begging
Let me in please
What I would not do
For one hour
Of quiet
Of silence
Of stillness
Fracturing memories
Constricting thoughts
Dissonant crescendos
And the doors remain shut
Stillness is a command
One I cannot reach
So I pace the corridors
Pleading with the doors
Pretending my footsteps
Are not deafening
Pretending I can find
Spaces between thoughts
Pretending I remember
Things I did
Things I said
Pretending quiet can exist
Pretending movement is intentional
And still the doors remain shut
And all I can do
Is close my eyes
And pretend
Because pretense
Means home
And I want to be home