“The room is like a cave, and has books I love in it. The main door was closed up and a smaller opening was made under the stairs. (I went away while all this was happening.) The furniture is locked in, and part of me is locked in too, or I hope it is, although I often made a bid to escape. I have left instructions that I would like to be buried here when I die or a bit before, the cave bricked up.”

“I am the escaped one,
After I was born
They locked me up inside me
But I left.
My soul seeks me,
Through hills and valley,
I hope my soul
Never finds me.”

“If there's a locked door, I start to make up all kinds of stories about what might be behind it. I feel like it's some kind of secret, and it leads to me making up lies. But if all the doors are open, physically and metaphorically, there's only the one truth.”

“I'd have to lock the door of the paint room. He wouldn't allow anyone in. I was like a prisoner.”

“I hung up.
It was a step in the right direction, but it didn't go far enough. I ought to have locked the door and hid under the desk.”

“I'd lock myself up in my room with my guitar. I wouldn't cry. I was afraid if I let go just a little bit, it would all go. I would sing for hours by myself.... It was my way of crying.”

“.. Here I am shut up for the livelong day under lock and key and with keepers in a cell.... I will not deny that I would rather have died than have caused and suffered such trouble.”

“I'm so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything,' maybe that would have made the impossible possible. Maybe, but I couldn't do it, I had buried too much too deeply inside me. And here I am, instead of there.”

“All who want me would like to eat me up, But I am too expansive and am open to all sides, desire this here and that there.”

“don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.”