Vault

I guess I should open the vault and let things out, let the world witness the scary loot that resides inside of it, the variety of fears mating with the colonies of uncertainty, or the stark aloneness marinating in the boiling depression, or better yet the broken spirit, with the hemorrhaging soul.
That’s the consensus when it comes to my reluctance in showing how the destruction is affecting me. The method I’ve chosen to save the rest of me doesn’t please the masses, and I am being directed to give in, to let go, to open that vault.