No. 13

The fingers, outstretched towards me as I try to shut the door. To lock them all away once more. I put all of my strength into closing the door. The door that suspends in the black void of my conscience. The scratches across the dark oak are symbols of the anguish and different battles. I hear the bones rattling from behind the thin barrier that stands between us. The wood splintering shakes me to my core. I try so hard to keep them locked away. The exact number, I am uncertain of. The number grows but never lessens. Again I am shook from my deep thoughts when the bones grab at me, clawing their way to freedom. To make their self known to the world.  With all my might I slam the door and secure the lock. The heavy breaths rack my chest as I walk away once more from the skeletons inhabiting my closet. I know I’ll be back to fight the unyielding war.