foundations can be hard to find

There's a barricade surrounding me
A steep, blackened wall of deep insecurity
that has only grown and grown since the
very beginning. See, whenever I've had problems
or issues with myself, for the sake of keeping
a pretty smile or shimmering eye, I hoard my
thoughts like half-empty moving boxes in the
corner of a dark room I never use except when
I'm sad. When I'm sad, I'll flip the room's light
switch, and it'll flicker a few times before illuminating
dimly the bare and broken room. There's only
boxes in the room, covered in layers of dust and fingerprints
of past lovers. When I'm really sad, I'll open some of the boxes
and cry over whatever is inside. Scrapbooks, trinkets,
love letters. This room is a haunted place of past unrequited
love. But it's one of my favorite rooms in my mind, in the
part of my kingdom that few have ever visited. This
part of my kingdom is an ancient city, swept away by the
winds of time and moving ons. Museums should be
built on the fossils of this room, or just burn it to the
ground and finally start over so I can get the hell over it.