My anger

My anger is an empty place. Strange, because it is filled with old memories and yet there is nothing here I don’t know how to leave Sometimes I think I love this place sometimes I hate it. Maybe I am afraid of leaving, Or maybe I am afraid of that I won’t know who I am outside these walls. People try to enter I let them think they have But they were never truly here And perpharps that’s the problem I have built a home no one can enter, then wondered why I feel alone. Even when I leave, I always come back Because it’s home to me It’s all I ever know Maybe… i need saving.