My Chair

Welcome to my empty chair. My dark room. My quiet place. It's so quiet, I can't even hear my own heart beat even though it pounds furiously against my chest. It's so dark I can't see the chair in front of me though my eyes are well adjusted. And the empty chair is never empty. Not really. Even when no one is there, something always is. Can you see it? The chair? It's plain..at least it is to me. Wooden. Like it belongs under a kitchen table, with three others just like it. But there's no table. There are no other chairs. Just an empty, dark room. With an empty wooden chair. Quite the lonely feeling it possesses. I try to avoid it as much as possible. But it's always there. It's a part of me that I use for escape. I never really sit in it. Not even in my mind. I always just..watch it. Look at it. All it does really, is seat the emotions I feel inside. It makes them into a faceless person that I spend hours a day screaming at. Repremanding. Pushing away.