The Lawless Mind

By Ava Rosoff

my thoughts spiral into an ornate cage, locking themselves inside and swallowing the key, spinning faster and faster and faster until I cannot glimpse them.

my thoughts scribble on the blank walls of my psyche, except their drawings are ugly, black sharpie lines with no shape, no cohesive quality, sticking out on the stark white wall. i try to scrub them away but their residue remains until my fingers are raw from scrubbing and i let out a sigh of defeat. my thoughts are endless, scorching suns, hot and unforgiving, blinding me when i examine them for too long. my thoughts are endless night, dark save for a few spots of light. i gaze at those spots of light, squinting to better see tem, stars amidst the seemingly endless darkness of my mind. someday, i know the night sky will crack open to reveal a sky of endless stars, brightness conquering dark, an inverted version of my current state of mind. the curtains that are the night sky will open, the walls will be clean, or may be they’ll come down entirely, i’ll find the key to the cage and unlock it. and then i’ll feel true joy.