Figured Out Poem by Malory Joyce

I couldn't figure out this enigma of my life. My apathy left me reticent through my days. Living in this dark room with only one window which led to the world I already once was lost in. Here in my dark room my eyes gradually adapted giving me the opportunity to see, but each day what I didn't want to see appeared. What was once hidden in the closet towards the back of my mind opened its own doors into this room. Candor didn't run through the paint of these four walls, they listened, but caused me to lie to myself. I didn't want to be a part of that world outside that window, because I didn't want to revere what I am ashamed of. A world of hatred, backstabbing, judgments, and conceitedness. Yet I realize now I am no different. The hatred I kept towards my mother, the backstabbing I once did myself, the judgments I have made, and to complain only leaves me thinking of myself. We are only human although no one can fathom that. Outside that window even without ascetic I had autonomy. I am in control though I am not in control of what will happen, I am in control of how I feel and deal in the outcome of things. I don't have to show the world my feelings. I don't have to tell the world of my opinions. I will remain indifferent. I will remain to be who I am living in this world. The world in its own way is seen as aesthetic, we forget sometimes; I forget. Some live life effortless, but as for the rest, we put our effort into just getting through. The world is where my life is being lived. It doesn't belong hidden by the surroundings of my own troubles. To be wrapped in my own depression I only create myself. I must relinquish my fears.