My brain lies in front of me,
searching for a body.
My body in a puddle,
waits for a command.
He, in my crimson coat,
holds out the pad of notes:

Blood is flowing neatly,
Coursing through – he’s healthy.
His brain seems out of place;

my own lobotomy?

I reach out a hand to take my notes away,
as rods of nothing stop my motion.
( I ) No is all he says –
and laughter fills the air.

No Blood on the Walls:
Intrabody Forces