the phrase “i’ve lost my mind”

doesn’t begin to encapsulate

how i feel

because my mind

hasn’t run away from me,

i haven’t forgotten it

in the streets of new york

where i still felt like i belonged,

i haven’t left it

in the confines

of the place i once called home,

i know exactly where it is,

so i’ve found the phrase

“i’m lost in my mind”

to be much more accurate

because my mind

is a maze full of

trap doors and secret passageways

that lead to yet another room

of miserable memories.

my mind

holds tangled film reels

that remind me

of a time

when happiness was still within reach.

my mind

carries battered books

with torn pages that are filled

with the moments in my life

i hold most dear.

my mind

contains riddles with answers

hiding my darkest secrets,

the ones i barely know myself.

my mind 

holds a jewelry box

containing classical music

and delicate ornaments

from my delicate past.

my mind

hides a toy box of playful memories

locked with a key

i seem to have lost

the day my childhood ran away from me.

my mind 

is a place 

i have both hated and loved,

trusted and betrayed,

feared and praised.

my mind

is a place

where i used to feel safe,

my mind used to be my escape.

but now,

it seems i can’t escape.