Beneath the Floor Above My Mind

Inspired by an eponymous prompt conceived by a close friend. I invite you to give it a go.

Beneath the floor above my mind
 is that space between the underscore
of all your lies,
 with eroded colors and peeling lines
like old graffiti that 
 fades only when the damage has undermined
what once was a beautiful mind.
 Beneath the floor above my mind
stagnant tears rush to fill the emptied sulci,
 the folds no longer discernible,
and my fears seep beneath the floor
 filtered through the cracks that you yourself have torn. 
Bereaved of pain
 is what makes the mind rave 
if in fact that pain is what filled the mind
 past the line of no return.
Beneath the floor above my mind
 is a crawl space for me to hide 
and ask myself who and where am I.
 See, for when you left what once was full
you took me with you, and left behind 
 this mash of mold curled sidelong
with all the books that we had written, 
 and all the ones that we didn’t,
at least not with my permission.

 Though for that, you are forgiven.
I don’t care about my things you chose to write on. 
 The only thing I hate you for is that,
beneath the floor above my mind,
 you could’ve at least 

let the light on. 
Creative Commons License
Beneath the Floor Above My Mind by Thomas Baruzzi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

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