My Mind

Here in the splendor that is my mind,
I hollow a space for myself deep behind my ribs.

This awkwardly small but securely fitted place,
To watch the ballerina dance in the music box.

Pad the walls with pink velvet and sleep on every inch,
Then tear the velvet off in the morning,
To reveal a dome of glass confusion.

Palms sweating, imprinting the invisible with uncertainty.
Looking out to a giant-ly enclosed universe of goings on in theatrical dancing memories.

Which to watch and which to ignore?
How do I know if these have been altered?
If I changed them once can I change them back?

Scared now, wanting out of my splendor.
Out of what I thought I missed, but I promise!
If you get me out of here I'll remember how much it hurt and wont come back! Please!!...

And again,

I've forgotten.