Liminal Spaces of My Mind

Somewhere after sleeping, somewhere before dawn... There’s a door behind a door in a room I swear I knew, one hand on the handle like the dream already picked me too. Carpet fades to concrete, concrete cracks to tile, and every glowing exit sign just says “one more mile.” Stairwell, gym floor, bathroom mirror, locked store mop in my hands but fire underneath the floor. I keep waking up inside the liminal spaces of my mind. Every hallway bends in time, every exit says “almost, almost right.” Round and round, lost and found, chasing doors I can’t quite find. Maybe I’ll see you there in the liminal spaces of my mind. Rows of stalls like confession booths, showers dripping static rain. I’m stocking aisle seven while the floor cracks into flame. I step around the lava like I know the stupid map, but every door I just walked through just folded right back. Slide after slide, stairs to the sky, water gone still with the moon in its eye. I keep waking up inside the liminal spaces of my mind. Every hallway bends in time, every exit says “almost, almost right.” Round and round, lost and found, chasing doors I can’t quite find. Maybe I’ll see you there in the liminal spaces of my mind. Maybe it’s a message. Maybe it’s a maze. Maybe some scared kid version of me never found his way. Every room I’m running through is waiting to be claimed. Maybe I’m not lost at all... maybe I came. I keep waking up inside the liminal spaces of my mind. Every hallway bends in time, every exit says “almost, almost right.” Round and round, lost and found, chasing doors I can’t quite find. Maybe I’ll see you there in the liminal spaces of my mind. Maybe I’ll see you there... somewhere after sleeping... somewhere before dawn...