My mind is an overgrown jungle,

And your cutlass won’t help you at all,

Because the image of my pain are too bushy here,

My mind is an overgrown jungle,

There’s no entry to let you inside,

In dread you will cut down my branches,

And discover the emotions I have worked hard to hide,

The trees unite as crowds in my jungle,

To form a shadow that blocks out the light,

So that the sun may warm the outside,

But the inside as cold as a freezer,

There’s a house made of thorns in my jungle,

I have spent years making it feel like a home,

Yet it never really felt like home,

But I do anything I like there,

There’s another house in my jungle,

It’s owned by the one they call the Creator,

The path to there is as slender as a pin,

At no time have I made it further than the gate,

My curiosity of that house bubbled my heart,

I know I would go into that house soon,

Soon was to be today,

Today changed to tomorrow,

Because the problem with overgrown jungle,

Is that there will always be vines that will spread,

I know it’s hard to get in there,

But it’s ten times as hard to get out.


5 thoughts on “DON’T MIND MY MIND.”

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