The Thought Closet
Some nights, when
everything is still, when
the moon paper is thin,
when the city of lights is
dark, I would go into my
mind, where I keep a little
room. I turn the crystal
knob and go in, not
bothering to flip the lights
on.
The room isn't very big,
not very big at all. There
are no windows in the
room. There is a bed, a
desk, a chair and a closet.
Now, for such a small
room, the closet should
be small too. But it's not.
I haven't ever seen all of
it, because it is too big.
And some nights, I go in,
exploring.
I walk along sunny
beaches in the Thought
Closet.
I go to my eighth
birthday party.
I see the Halloween
and Thanksgiving when
I was five.
I see the flower stand
on Baker's Street.
I see people that I've
never met.
And go to parties I
never got invited to.
i am young again,
playing with my friends.
Then I am adult,
sharing a romance.
I go to places in different
times.
And then I leave the room.
I am back in bed, starring
at the dark city and the paper
thin moon. And I know that
none of this fake. The thought
closet is in everyone's head.
It's in there somewhere.
Look in your head when
you and the world are
peaceful. Go in the closet.
Go dream.
