My mind,
a cluttered and messy place
A place that I’m forever trapped
without a key

The key,
it perches atop a stool
behind barbed wire
and steel bars

Inaccessible
Untouchable
Unreachable
Impossible

The words that haunt my mind,
a cavern,
a ghost of what it used to be

Taunting me,
restlessly,
while kicking
and spitting upon my fragile brain

Perhaps my brain is glass
and the thoughts are rocks,
shattering the glass,
and then using the remains to stab my heart

And I let it happen
because I know I will never be free,
free from the Hell inside my head

At this point,
I’d rather stop breathing
than to hope
for the rough surface of the key in my palm

Because hope is just another word,
a synonym for imagination