mind palace

In place of pride lays an alley located between my confidence and sorrow. Dim and putrid with noises of feral cats and unsteady dumpsters. The sidewalk in front is cracked and crumbing, callous to the weary feet that tremble past. The small pop-up shop that is my confidence has only a few items left in stock. The owner seems to always be in the back; leaving customers at the register long enough for them to give up and go somewhere else. How pretty the decor is, beautiful paintings and sculptures that no one cares to admire. To the left, a skyscraper reaching for the stars hoping to become one. The multitude of floors and departments and workers and management inside is as heavy as the steel and concrete used to create their home away from home. What makes this building so terrifying is that the farther you go up the more you can see. Except the building is so high it pokes out through the clouds and at a certain point all you can see is a white blanket of faux snow calling for you to become an angel. I’ve been to the top a few times and as ethereal as it was, nothing was more comforting than racing down the abundance of stairs and straight out the door. The air is not nearly as fresh down here but at least I’m not light-headed anymore. The cartography of my soul is still mostly undiscovered. I hope I can create the full map someday; maybe then I’ll know who I am.