I stare at the key in the lock, the door is ajar. I could push it open: let the light that creeps around it warm my face, and breathe the fresh air. But the box in which I live feels safe and warm. I'm free to continue to choose confinement.
I stare at the key in the lock, the door is ajar. I could push it open: let the light that creeps around it warm my face, and breathe the fresh air. But the box in which I live feels safe and warm. I'm free to continue to choose confinement.