Museum of my Mind
I would make a museum of my mind
Fill these musty halls with all my people
Every girl who has walked my corridors
To write her piece and paste it on the walls.
Every plaque together, a mosaic
Of all personas, memories, and thoughts
Together an image, reflected back
Informative of me, an auto-school.
Blowing out the dust of unused ballrooms
Broom cupboards and and the back stairs, each its own
Room for machinations, revelations,
Fed by all those who reside within me
My lonely people, aimless wanderers
Floating through the corridors room by room
Their homes are these clustered, open cloisters.
Endless is my palace of passages.
I am dissected in a thousand cuts
Each slice a living, pulsating breather
Warm and soft against my cobblestone floors
Balance of life and rock, they people me.
Voices low and laughter cheerful, I hear
My population all internally
All beings that are me, graduated
Notches on a scale, all playing their part,
Like cogs and wheels they move in tandem drifts
Here in this exhibit they gave me, of
Balustrades adorned and turrets revived
I transformed: a museum of my mind.
Copyright © Alice Reynolds | Year Posted 2025
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