I walk around this unfamiliar place with a blank stare on my face.
The streets are slightly wet from a recent rain that may have taken place.
Something halts my feet to a stop.
I look down to find a giant pile of rum.
My first instinct is to bend down and pick it up.
Yet, an internal feeling makes me keep walking instead.
Canopy trees cover the midnight sky so I can’t see the fast clouds fly by.
Sometimes there is an echo that resembles a cry.
Or it could be someone’s morbid laugh.
Lights flicker on and off as I coat the road carelessly.
Even though I have never been here before,
I can’t help but recognize the small, pebbled cracks in the fold of the textured walls.
And the scent almost reminds me of the smell of my own nose.
That’s when the pieces all came together to click –
I had been wandering the street of my own inner mind this whole time.