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I'm not hungry.
I don't wanna ***.
I don't wanna dominance.
That's my limbic system's cares.
12 nerves that connected with the brain.
Okay, okay, okay
I)The first one is Olfactorii .
Do you ever smell the trash?
Yes, I always smell the trash.
Say thank you to Olfactorii.
He is in charge.
II)The second one is Opticus .
He said that I don't need a glasses.
But I'm exception from the masses.
III)The third one is Oculomotorius.
Up, down, left, right.
It's eye's direction accessory.
IV)The fourth is Trochlear.
It also had controll on eyeball .
V)The fifth one is Trigeminus.
Divided for the three.
1. Ophthalmicus - scapl, forehead, nose, upper eyelid, cornea sensory.
2. Maxillaris - upper jaw, teeth, gums; palate, nasopharynx, nasal cavity ; lower eyelid, lip , cheek skin.
3. Mandibularis - lower jaw, gums, teeth ; 2/3 anterior tongue ; mucous membrane of cheek; skin of lower lip ; auricle ; temporal region; mastication's muscles controller.
Do you see how easy it is?
VI)The sixth is nervus abducens.
Again eyeball controls.
VII)The seventh is the Facialis.
Taste of 2/3 anterior tongue, external ear and palate.
Mimetic muscles, m. stapedius, m. digastricus, m. stylohyoideus.
Submandibular, sublingual salivary, lacrimal glands.
VIII) The eighth is Vestibulocochlear nerve.
n. vestibularis - balance sense.
n. cochlearis - hearing sense.
IX) The ninth is glossopharyngeus.
1/3 post. tongue taste; sensory of pharynx, palatine tonsils, middle ear, carotid sinus and carotid body.
Upper pharynx muscles controls.
Parotid salivart gland controls.
X) 9 - Vagus.
Lower part of pharynx, larynx, thoracic, abdominals organs sense.
Muscles: soft palate, lower pharynx, larynx.
Glands: thoracic and abdominal organs.
XI) Accessorius: m. Sternocleidomastoideus, m. Trapezius,
XII) Hypoglossus: muscles: intrinsic, extrinsic tongue; floor of mouth (m. geniohyoideus), neck (m. thyroideus).
King Mar 15
Hi. My name is Michael, and if you’re reading this then please share it. On January 5th something strange happened to me. I’m not the strange type of person at all, I have a seemingly normal and average life that I’ve been living. Im single, I work a small yet suitable office job, I have a caring family, I spend my free time with friends or putting puzzles together, occasionally watching TV.. I’m sure the following details have bored you, but I’ve been urged to put down all I know.
As for what has happened.. January 5th, it was a weekday and I woke up in order to get ready for work just like I do every day. I got out of bed, brushed my hair with a comb, brushed my teeth, and put on my khakis and dress shirt.. yet when I rolled up my sleeves I saw a black dotted line over a small space on my left wrist. This was the start of these strange occurrences. The line was like sharpie, some non erasable marker that had gotten to my wrist somehow. I had no memory or clue to where it came from, yet it was there. At the time I didn’t think much of it so I went on with my day. The strangeness happened yet again the next day when I woke up.. I did the same thing as the last day, yet again when I went to roll up my sleeves I noticed the dotted line was gone.. in its place was an extremely thin scar. As soon as I touched it, just a graze from my thumb, it hurt.. the scar had me extremely concerned but what was even more concerning was the fact that it hurt! I convinced myself so eagerly it was ok! Its fine.. I just.. I didn’t know where the scar had came from! I still don’t! It baffles me and I think about it so so often.. anyways. I was convinced it was a weird sprain, so I made a small brace out of some bandage and I decided to head to work, arriving late which was terrible on my average record. I couldn’t even begin to think that day, it was as if my mind was fogged with questions, theories, concerns and what to do? Who gets into a situation like this? Yet again, I convinced myself it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be..
Then I went home, I went to bed and woke up the next day. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t breath when I saw how bad of shape my wrist was, it was painted with black and blue and looked sickly.. I was so distraught, I yelped in my one person apartment before I cried. Never had I been more scared for what had happened to me! Until of course.. I noticed the dotted lines on my right wrist. That was what killed me. I felt like I was going insane, I couldn’t think for atleast half an hour as I was practically paralyzed with fear of what was happening! I didn’t want to be without two working hands..
So with my right hand still working I left to the hospital, I drove fast, as fast as I could while shaking.. I swear the doctors thought I was there for mental treatment when I first approached then blabbering on how something was coming to scar my wrist, on how I needed the line removed.. yet I was calmed as they took me to get an xray of my worse wrist. They kept me in a room afterwards, I waited 3 hours before a shy doctor came in slowly.. he seemed distraught, which didn’t help my situation at all. “Mr. Dickenson…” he said softly, as if trying to calm me before revealing the neighbor ran over my cat, or my mom couldn’t get me that new console.. “I’m sorry to say this, but from the xrays we have it appears that there is excess blood in your wrist from.. well.. one of the bones in your wrist is.. gone.” He said calmly, my stomach dropped and my eyes widened. What the ****? How the ****? I laughed at first as he showed me the xrays before I explained to him dreadfully how it had to have happened. It HAD to have been in my sleep! The lines!! I didn’t understand. He agreed he would keep me for the next few nights to assess my situation. I was lucky that he was as baffled as me..
So I spent my night in the hospital, and as it can be assumed.. there was indeed a scar on my right wrist, and my left had only been getting worse, more painful, more bruised.. I cried as I saw my situation, something had stolen parts of me.. **** I cant even move my right wrist.. I’ve been painfully jotting this all down with a faulty left wrist, that feels like mush where my bone was stolen. I woke up crying as the doctor came in to take me to get more xrays.. three bones from my right wrist had been stolen. The funny thing? I was in the hospital all night. Me and this doctor checked everything to find any forced entries, we checked security cameras to find nothing had been on them.. I don’t know what this is, this ghost, or disease, or **** whatever is happening to me!! What I know is that I’ve checked my body, again, and tomorrow I will die.. these rotten lines made their mark right where the doctor had said my heart is. He checked and as of now it’s still beating.. I’ve called my parents and friends, and sadly they don’t believe me much. Who would? Without proof like the doctor has I sound insane. I’m writing this because maybe you can escape it. Maybe you’ll be able to seek help when you first see the lines.. because I’ve read stories like this. These ghosts. These demons.. these diseases… they never stop after patient zero. Check your wrists before you go to bed tonight, and when you wake up. I would hate to have someone miss a sign.
I’m in watch now. They have cameras in my hospital room to try and catch it better this time. I’ll continue this if I don’t die tonight.
(Last entry, January 8th)
Chris Lazzaro Feb 18
Wandering under
woodland leaves,
my mind confined
to winding suture lines.
Paths of pink nerve tissue
cherry blossom trees,
dendrite branches wave
in a heavy breeze.
Myline bark, an axon stump,
rooted contents of my skull
continuously growing,
a tangled plexus of
neural connections.
Twisting, turning,
a knotted blockage.
Pathways, rippled in roots,
a crossing synaptic stoppage.
A suffocating strangle,
choking corpus callosum
decaying mangle.
Branches atrophy,
shrivel and scar.
Root terminals suffer
hormonal harm.
Forest trails quick fainting
when lost in overthinking.
girl gonzo Jan 15
a swollen finger rising to the occasion
rising to the size of a grape, purple
bloated like a stuffed pocket or pregnant chicken
green oozing out like the slime i got from the museum and the smell of rubber and plastic following me in my sleep

a ghost by the window slipping into my thumb and biting pain
the numb pressure of muscle tissue ripping
the phantom claws out and shouts that women are debris
swamps with lost metal buried at the bottom if you dig long enough the days become one and their hair consumes you whole

i argue with the shadow, threaten that this bruise will burst and blood with meet alcohol, an antibiotic fever dream
it stares at me defiant, like a giant pulverizing a village
my fingers wrestle and before the abscess can pop
the fingerprints unravel until i am nothing but thread
a coil at the bottom of the floor
a dress to be sewn in a bedroom
the shadow stand up and fits her bones into the fibers, a bride in white
the thumb hurts no more
a gross anatomy dissection
Allison Wolf Dec 2018
Trauma cemented my secrets deep within the crevices of my core,
yet he cracks my chest and I am a chilled corpse
drenched in formaldehyde, slowly decaying,
laid open for all to study.

Ordinary organs on display, hiding the scars of past mistakes:
bruises from an ex-boyfriend don’t tint the epidermis,
wine that splattered the walls and my white t-shirt
have already left the liver, the folds of cerebrum
unscathed from the demons that scratched
away at my sanity.

He’s seen me *****, vulnerable, and now I’m terrified
that he isn’t interested in understanding –  
just observing – my anatomy.
December 29, 2018
11:24:56 PM
Knit Personality Dec 2018
My eleventh toe is green.
    I take it out at Christmas,
Hold it above my head,
    And ask around for kisses.


Bunny Rubinstein Dec 2018
A poet is made of many things
On the surface you'll see skin
Stretched across weary bones
Often with scars
Open them up and you'll see a heart
Broken, but held together with broken promises
Where their intestines should be are rivers of passion, Deep as oceans
Stomachs have been replaced with galaxies
Starlight guides them
A poet is stitches together with maybes
With could have beens and should have beens
Some poets are cities; walls built by torment, but beautiful
Some are fields of wildflowers; hearts as fickle the breeze that guides them
And others, others are oceans
Strong, yet gentle, following no one but the moon
The one thing that ties us all together in the love in our eyes despite the hurt
The way we see the world in a beautiful light no matter our trauma
What ties us all together is the fact that we
We survived
Lori York Dec 2018
I painted it
With one of his ribs
He knew I needed it
And he gave it
Willingly
Apparently
He'd always
Had an extra one.
Deeper than the captivating shape it has,
Lies a greater purpose it stands for.
So vast and strong,
It rotates laterally
and extends at your will.

It stands strong, defying gravity
cushioning you for your comfort
and holding your pelvis still.

So appreciate it for more than it's curves;
stand tall and thank your behind
when you bend.

For it is greater than
it seems.
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