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.



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