Oh to be insane again, to be in winter and yet hold the wildest summers in my mind. To be my worst self and yet live to see another day and still be cared for. To dream boundlessly while I can. I must admit those hallways put me in another childhood. Outside of those hallways I believed I’d be born again. But each time I succumb again to myself and it is winter once more, and I am forced to consider that perhaps the madness never truly leaves, it only manifests in its different seasons so that even now, in my sanest appearance, I am mad.

© katiewrites