The strong walls we build protecting our private worlds vestibules of our secrecy compartments for our sanity.
Rooms, communal we share costumed and clothed, or private places secured by key for our naked selves to hide.
Into our rooms we invite guests to dine, friends to talk, other doors we prefer to close only opened for love or need.
Closed doors, lead to empty rooms the air chokes with dust, growing cold, cobwebs thicken as spiders prey and fear barricades, we cannot admit.
Unvisited, vacate, and leave to ruin, mould devouring wood, cracks in glass, bolt the door, board the windows walls fall to crumble, no home for a soul.