The Self Trunk

I'm stuck in my self trunk again!
It's my favorite place to hide.
No one know's I'm here in my den.
No one tries to look inside.
And so I fill this space within,
With very personal treasures from my life.

This self trunk is my retreat,
When I loose my confidence,
When I turn back in defeat.
When I loose my survivor sense,
And choose not to see or greet,
Each new day with Spiritual wonderment.

This self trunk is my safe space.
The small confines are well known,
And I can go at my own slow pace,
And not be attacked by the unknown.
Yes, a safe, comfortable place,
That welcomes me like I'm home.

The self trunk is all about me.
I don't want You here.
I like the choice to peek,
To lift the lid and peer,
And it doesn't mean I'm weak,
I just try not to need You here.

My self trunk can be a prison,
If I get stuck in here for long.
And I'm stuck in here now, this prison,
Where I've lost the reason to belong,
Where I've lost my mission,
To survive and be strong.

Yes, I'm stuck in my self trunk now,
And I need to get out to become again.
Lift the lid of burden and step out!
Become involved as a friend to my friends,
Accept what this dreaded age will allow,
And live the time left without end!

The self trunk is a place to hide,
A survival skill in some ways,
A retreat from the stress outside,
But not a place to stay for days,
And if they grow to years, one can die.
No, this trunk is no place to stay.