My Own

I'm alone in a castle of my own mind.
Of my own pain.
Of my own despair.
I'm in a castle of my own creation, and all I want to do is leave.
I want to taste the clean fresh air of the outdoors, swim the rivers that start high in the mountains, and feel the earth between my toes.
But I am stuck in a castle of my own mind, of my own pain, and of my own despair.
I'm locked in a castle, alone.
A place that perhaps once held great things and housed great people, is once again beginning to crumble.
Fraying at the edges.
But to stop a dress from fraying, you burn the edges, and what good would that do for this castle of cold stone.
I would still be alone. Even if the walls ceased to crumble.
And what good is a castle when you're alone?