The Halls In My Head
The halls in my head
Wind deep.
Walls of doors
That hide the information
I categorize and compartmentalize,
In an attempt to establish some illusion
Of logic
In this thing we call,
"The Rational Mind."
You see, I live in here,
In this world of doors, and doubts, and deductions.
These eyes,
Are not so much a window to the soul,
As they are the window to the world
In which this soul lives.
And as my cornea refracts
The wavelengths of this touch and feel world,
My halls are flooded
With the images and information
That make my doors burst beyond capacity.
For try as I might,
My head cannot contain the world.
You see, I live in here.
And I know
The cold terror
Of being clutched by a rampant Fear
That runs loose in the shadows.
And I know
That the smell of an old sweatshirt
Will always let loose Memories I cannot ignore.
And I know
That just as conceptual infinity
Stretches beyond these halls in my head,
It is in my head.
You see, I live in here.
And these halls are an ocean of endless possibility.
My eyes are the sun,
And there are only so many fathoms they can penetrate.
I am not merely the memories and experiences
Of this compilation of matter.
I am a complex, unexplored ecosystem
Of pain, passion, confusion and understanding.
These halls are mine,
Though they wind deeper than my mind's eye,
And the doors will not stay shut.
You see, I live in here.
I'm the only one who can.
For I am human.
I am a trapped infinity.