Published via Ecency

Labyrinth of the Mind

It starts with just a flicker—small,
a whisper in the quiet hall,
a single thread of maybe-when,
that curls, then loops, then strikes again.

The room is still, the clock is slow,
but in my head, the echoes grow.
What if, what then, what did I miss?
Each thought becomes a coiled abyss.

I chase them down like drifting smoke,
but grasping thought is just a joke.
For every answer leads to two,
then four, then eight, until I'm through
the doors I swore I’d never try—
the ones that ask the reasons why.

Did I say too much? Or not at all?
Was that a rise, or was that fall?
Did I offend with just a glance?
Could I have changed it with a chance?
And round I go, a ghost in flight,
rewinding every word each night.

My mind becomes a mirrored maze,
a hundred rooms, a thousand ways.
I talk myself into the ground,
then dig beneath the words I’ve found.
Each thought I plant, a twisted tree—
it grows, it splits, it questions me.

The hours slip like ink through skin,
and still the spiral pulls me in.
What once was clear is smeared and blurred,
each certainty becomes unheard.
The world outside begins to fade,
replaced by rules my mind has made.

I pace inside the same idea,
until it shifts to something fear.
I try to leave, I try to sleep,
but overthinking cuts too deep.
And even dreams are lined with thread
that leads me back to what was said.

Is this control or just a cage?
A quiet ache, a subtle rage.
To think is fine, to think is fair—
until the thinking eats the air.

And yet, I breathe. I write it down.
The madness whispers, I don’t drown.
A flicker still, but now I see—
the mind’s a tide that can’t stay free.
But tides can shift, and tides can change,
and from this chaos, I’ll rearrange.

Thank you for your upvotes and follows. I created the images for this post with Midjourney v5.