Ghosts of the past are waiting,

waiting to break free

from the subconscious prison.

They lie dormant, like trees

in winter, down dim and

dangerous avenues in your mind.

Banished there, never to return.

You slide through life, seemingly

in control, and comfortable,

keeping the past under lock and key.

Forever shoring up the prison walls,

securing your feelings

and guarding the gates.

Always in fear of uproar within.

Comes that day, and the inmates riot !

nothing holds the tidal wave of

thoughts smashing through the

conscious mind, thoughts that

stir, sting, and scald.

forcing you to reconsider

truths you tried so hard to hide.