My mind's an intricate honeycomb.
Each capsule is covered with veils, glass windows, crystals, mirrors and mold.
Within these complex cubbies of my subconscious lie the things left unsaid –
words weighed down with a scent of honesty.
Phrases that bleed brash lust.
Proclamations that could make men produce a scarlet blush.
… But that is simply the crystallized capsule.
Pains and posies plaguing my moss covered room.
Sweeping. Infecting. Haunting.
Yet, this cubicle’s irrelevant – it’s hardly as daunting.
The big pimpin’, essential part of my mind -
The penthouse capsule that houses inner peace
Tiling made of joy and acumen made me glad to sign the lease.
Candy coated contentment and confidence-
The same room in my mind hosting common sense.
My honeycomb mind. Combing through my sweet & sticky mind.