Treasure

What a tragedy
I cannot refer to my old works
My art and my poetry
All these treasures I have created
With not only my hands
But my mind

Records of my life
Proof of my existence
Verification for my pain
Golden only to me

I cannot look upon them freely
For in being the most honest record of me
They are filled with anguish
And it destroys me all over again
To explore my past