Holding space

Your head is a maze, no sorry, a labyrinth
set on speed, top speed. Your thoughts
curve time and space into concentric
circles you can’t see beyond. You’ve
been here before before before. I can’t
help you out, sorry, I don’t know the way
in or the way out. Only you know that,
though you’ve forgotten to go in again,
without a ball of wool to help you out.
I’m here, waiting for you, calling to you,
hoping one day, you’ll hear my voice,
hear your own voice, be able to follow
yourself back out again.