When I have time to think,
when the dark thoughts
are hailing me
like Starfleet academy
across the universe
of my undermine;

In the dark regions
of my dreams
where legions
of thought demons
come rumbling in,
there is a red wave,
a reservoir of pain
reserved for the perturbed
parts of my overactive brain.

When the melancholia music plays,
switch flipped to repeat
as I listen to the beat
of my heart’s history,

I remember all that
was given to me,
the bits I took for granite
chipped rocks eroded
connections no longer
able to be loaded
because they are just
echoes of binary encoded
in my overloaded
grief molded
dual lobed
computing *****.