I walk into a corridor
Silent and bored at all
Wondering why I am here
Above me are paintings
Outstretching and hazing
Of me from all my past years

As I look up
The stretching continues
I look outside
And it's me at the venues 
Where am I?
Of course; it’s my mind


I curl into a ball
Not yet ready
As black tentacles pierce every edge of my psyche
I’m thrown into my past
I wonder how long I can last