The Woods Of My Mind

The woods of my mind stay still, silent with very little light shimmering the trees. And their branches tangling one another had woven an infinite cloud, the air in it dense. The tree trunks barred my vision, any sign of life within. It still does. And I had to go around trunk by the trunk in search of it thus falling into an eternal game of hide and seek and just around a giant one tailing myself to an endless loop. With me, things always go the other way around. Why bother? Especially when I had turned myself the other way around.