My mind is a house

Created by thick walls and twisting corridors,

Accompanies of broken locks and busted doors,

Spontaneous sights of splintered wood and shattered glass,

No matter where you look you can see my past.

Within the rooms you find memories and old regrets,

They’re painted on the walls giving no chance to forget,

You’ll find bad memories in overflowing baths and dirty sinks,

Now you may understand why I tend to overthink.

These rooms are each dedicated to matching memories and emotions,

Occupying closets and vanities that contain the sins i store within,

Underneath the floorboards you discover hidden words,

And on the walls you find all the others that I’ve said or heard.

I have package boxes packed to the top with my doubts,

Each one containing the thought, “What could this be about?”

Yes they are heavy and yes they are weighing me down,

But I can’t leave them since to this house I am bound.

At the end of the hall, you find quite the surprise,

A secured door with behind it lying the source of my greatest cries,

Some being quiet and others being uncontrollable,

My bed is the place where I become inconsolable.

Take a sharp right and continue about twenty paces,

A room with a tall statue in the center filling empty spaces,

The figure has cracks that inhabit cobwebs and vines,

Each of these flaws reflect off of those that are mine.

My mind isn’t the perfect dream home you see in magazines

It’s not in those advertising photos that appear on your screen

It’s the house that has a warning sign to keep everyone away

Sure is a shame to see a once beautiful house brought to decay