The Recesses of My Mind

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Abstract

I open this door it’s very hard to close not because it’s too heavy but because it’s too light and it keeps swinging open to expose more of my loss over and over, the presentation in the palm of my hand a hologram of maladies and misplayed minutia I am so small compared to the recesses of my mind</p><p id="abaa">It’s always a test to see how far I will go for just how long I will dig until I am too tired and too emotionally spent to withstand another pull of the shovel another sad memory to pull out of this crater and throw behind me as I watch this black hole get bigger and bigger</p><p id="b717">Sometimes I feel like jumping to see just how deep it goes or to see if I would come out on the other side a brain reconstructed the reverse recesses of my mind where all the bes

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t highlights play on a projector, film splayed smiles on a neverending loop and those lost, still here</p><p id="056b">© <a href="undefined">Jonathan Greene</a> 2020</p><p id="aaf2">If you liked this, you might like this as well:</p><div id="aff6" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/inside-of-me-is-broken-glass-2e37b750270c"> <div> <div> <h2>Inside of Me is Broken Glass</h2> <div><h3>A Poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*hhqzZPX5MOym6s92)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

A Poem

Some days I dig deep to uncover treasures from my past, but the problem is that when I try to access the recesses of my mind the only things I can find are the worst things

Last breaths, untold regrets Pain dripping out of me and onto the floor forming a puddle of misery with a reflection of myself right in the middle crying

Once I open this door it’s very hard to close not because it’s too heavy but because it’s too light and it keeps swinging open to expose more of my loss over and over, the presentation in the palm of my hand a hologram of maladies and misplayed minutia I am so small compared to the recesses of my mind

It’s always a test to see how far I will go for just how long I will dig until I am too tired and too emotionally spent to withstand another pull of the shovel another sad memory to pull out of this crater and throw behind me as I watch this black hole get bigger and bigger

Sometimes I feel like jumping to see just how deep it goes or to see if I would come out on the other side a brain reconstructed the reverse recesses of my mind where all the best highlights play on a projector, film splayed smiles on a neverending loop and those lost, still here

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