Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member

Members

The Vault
20/Not Kansis    All Rights Reserved © All poems are intellectual property of The Vault

Poems

So many things are swimming through my mind right now.
So many thoughts, memories, emotions, and demons.
They float by like sheets of ice,
chilling me down to the deepest part of my broken soul,
making me numb.
Their compositions are so complex I avoid them for my sanity.
My mind is so distortedly dysfunctional.
It's filled with an infinite number of all these things,
but if I focus on one of them for too long, my mind pushes them out of reach.
My mind is a vast labyrinth guarded by sarcasm, bitterness, and a mask of composure,
filled with wastelands, trenches, and locked doors.
Only those that are patient will ever find the vault at its very center,
and even then, my mind is nearly impossible to crack.
This vault is like no other.
It's one that you never
                                                        want
                                                                                      to
                                                                                                             open.

Despite my mind's shortcomings, it's quite clever in this one sense.
The vault contains demons so repulsive, so revolting, so disturbingly terrifying,
why, my mind can't even remember what it put there.
But at night, as my mind pulls at dreams,
the vault is most unfortunately opened when my guard is down.
I sometimes wake up breathless,
with only faint recollections of the nightmarish memories and demons that my mind conjured and unleashed in slumber.
As suddenly as I awaken, the dark matter of my mind retracts back into the vault before I have much else to do.
I then peel myself off of my bed, scrape the attempt of a smile out of the gutters of my soul, and go about my day.
There are other times when the solid walls of my mind melt away for reasons I cannot explain.
Everything then swims through my mind,
all the darkness of it tugging at the back of my consciousness,
wearing away at my thought process,
and filling up my mind with hazy grief.
Nonetheless, the vault of my mind is better off locked.

However, by design, a vault must have a key to open it.
The key to mine takes many different forms,
and the interesting part is, I don't know what the key looks like.
From day to day, my mind is an imposing, impenetrable fortress,
to the point where even my own mind can't determine its complexity.
I live each day, watching, searching,
dreading the day when I finally find what frees my mind
from its nightmares, secrets, and its vault.