Why do I answer?
That insistent banging
inside my closet door?

I recognize the tap,
tap, taps,
from times of yore.

Never colorful thoughts,
only looming darkness,
hides behind that door.

Feeling powerless,
reaching for the knob,
giving a twist once more.

Knowing I shouldn't,
but I can't help myself,
out they begin to pour.

Resurrected memories,
secrets never told,
enter with a roar.

Discarded bones,
clattering skeletons,
playing out life's score.

Unwanted recollections,
suspended like marionettes,
my attention they implore.

Voices blurting out minutiae,
images blurred with guilt,
dealing is such a chore.

When one awakes,
we never know,
what our mind has in store.

Will the sky be filled with color,
or ominous dark clouds lurk?
What be our soup du jour?

All one can hope,
is this day will bring,
a pleasant stroll across the moor.