It’s like a cave:

large and unknown, with the potential

to hold a world of my own creation;

and yet it remains empty,

fear blocking the entrance of anything holy.

Every noise is absorbed into the darkness,

a wishing well that will offer you nothing

but the promise of shallow water

and enough stolen coins to cure cancer.

A lake takes up most of the space here,

murky and filled with once living things.

Once in a while,

an idea will float to the surface,

shiny and white and pure-

the offspring of corpses buried under years of

pressure and anxiety.           

These thoughts will often adapt

in order to survive their environment:

twisting and morphing

into less-than perfect versions of what they originally were,

and even then is it rare

for these weak creatures to swim to shore,

dry off,

and finish their journey-

Self Confidence will effortlessly grab them by the ankles

and bring them back to where they belong.

Nightmares are born

and dreams are shattered here;

this is my home,

my disgusting,

rotten,

unworthy

excuse for a sanctuary that will very likely be

the death of me.