my mind is a black hole of unwanted necessities.
merely a trash pile of heartbroken memories.
a garbage can of 'what-ifs'.
too many corners,
not enough time.
too many songs,
not enough rhyme.
i want to run
i want to climb
i want to expand the endless borders
   of my only mind.
why
can't
it
happen.
why
can't
it
be?
why am i made up of just disheartened memories?
my landscape is soft
my scars are sad
why do i only want all the things that i once had?
beaten-down borders represent
   where i once stood.
i always swore that i would never be anything but good.
i can't say that what you've done to me makes me glad
but dear mind,
   at least now i appreciate what i once had.