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The Basement Of My Brain
I am in the basement of my brain.
Got here yesterday, after the sun set,
And I have yet to understand why.
We breathe, we talk, we see,
But in this basement, this dark recess
In my head, all I can do is think.
Think about why we breathe, why we talk.
The sky is blue outside, but in my brain
I see a hundred colors, flying like diamond rockets.
I’m sorry I missed you today,
But I am in the basement of my brain.
The place all thoughts and dreams descend.
I am here to find a thought I had,
A long time ago. It was a fleeting thought,
Vanishing like the moon behind winter clouds.
The pictures on the walls keep changing
And I can’t keep track of what they are.
All I see are squares and circles, and butterflies.
All caves end, but the brain is forever.
Stalactites of dripping thought almost reach the floor,
And large boxes of forgotten ideas begin to fall apart.
I want to find it now, my missing thought.
It’s here, among these relics of memory,
Waiting to be retrieved.
Birds fly high above, fish swim in the floor.
I begin to disappear; my thoughts drift away.
This river is full of empty books.
Memories last eternally, they say, but truthfully
They accumulate in the basement, like old teddy bears
Left under the bed and forgotten plastic trucks.
They are waiting to be remembered,
To see the light of day,
To break free, to see the blue sky again.