I’d like to

But my brain's response is sluggish
And the me you know is not
The me that I am...

Right now.

Tiny lion laid so low
Who cut your mane
Your glow
The brain-land took, synapses struck
then
lost you
and it your-self and soul

The savanna called home
smacked of a foreign land
we found you hidden and weaving
your paw-full feet
scratching
telescoping
your way through the
streets of castaways, vines, and fists
Catching you then in its
paltry honeycomb

What are those points of neurons
fabricating in your mind
feeding fears
with gesturing claws
devising and fantasizing
luring my felis Leo, oh sick cat
take our love
struggling to bridge the gaps

Companions you lost
drifting through the dust
of the city cement
and ****** watered drugs
in veins
used by demons
who take the souls of lions
are now in their own generation, generating
their continued demise
away from you in your living trust

Your crown of tresses matted in tassels,
we searched the grass and pavements
we feared you were lost.
adrift,
missing and gone.
Years past,
treatments were tried
you emerged
the clearing did rise
you could now greet the day
to the love songs you hear
sing them for you,
you are the love
     whose worth is waiting
Lead on

You
Your Highness, watching upon your hill
breathe slow
linger a bit
recognize the worth of time
know there is a strength
in delay
anticipate dear one
the sun rises
Standy by,
for the afterglow

Master through life
do not succumb
your homeland,
waiting
as new companions take shape
As long as there are
plenty of tomorrows  
upon tomorrows
to a pick a friend,
a quarrel,
a dandelion.
accept hope,
A day for Lions will come.

What have you done to me
The things you've done
Back and forth
You mess with my mind
I'm close to insanity
What kind of love
Take you brain
And switches it
With your heart

What my consciousness is
and how my consciousness comes to be
is a mystery
to me.
Do my emotions and thoughts
correlate with
my brain cells’ activity and formation?
When my emotions and thoughts change
does my brain change?

I feel the ebbing flow
of venomous pain in my veins.
I feel the thoughts like bullets to my brain,
the emotions crashing down like turbulent waves.
I see the scars
rawer than before.
So here I am,
listening to music
louder than before.
Painting my heart
with more colors than before,
because it all hurts more than before.

The colors of your memory, you can no longer contrast as they swirl into one another.At times they are vibrant as though you are vividly living them experiencing them,and at times they are dull as though they have faded and been acid washed.

Your past slips into the present and present slips into the past. Some days you love me;as though it was the first time you are holding me in the palms of promises. But there are days when my name never slips your tongue and I am a mere stranger to you.

The memories are no longer stored in your mind, but on gigabytes that I have to play – that has become your storage and retrieval. Your memory has become pixelated, but you can no longer remember them as though it was your own.

Some days you’re on a carousel of memories in your mind; revering and your tongue has forgotten its language. At times you speak eloquently, but at times they are stars that are unlinked and lost. You used to weave constellations but now it’s difficult to put in a thread into the needle.

Thread of your memories begins to wear and the tales woven through ancestry fray with details as the world slips away and the thread unwinds. You try revising the tales, but the thinning at ends of your recollection slowly fades.

The scent infused with ambiance sends echoes of familiar places, resulting in you having spasms of remembrance while the flutters of moth wings beat at the edge of your mind.

There are days when you become a shell of yourself, as your pupils remain fragments detached from reality. I watch you as you wind yourself back in front of my eyes. Ebbing and flowing, freezing and releasing; trying to make sense of the confusion and panic that riles in your mind.

Though you feel, your stars are growing cold and feel like an ethereal that has collapsed, your smile is still the brightest star in the furthest galaxy. It is made of combustion of crimson blue yonder and candy hues.

Though your palms are dreams wrinkled dry, and your memories are falling like baby tooth, as the color of your speech is bleached and you frantically scavenge for memories to ground and make sense - I’ll be there to hold your scattered mind with patience and love you the days you won’t remember me as your own

It’s just a
           Tick
                   Tick
                           Tick
Wracking my brain
           Tick
                  Tick
                          Tick
Programmed­ to drive me crazy
           Tick
                  Tick
                          Ticking
Tak­ing over my thoughts
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Ticks
Making it hard to sleep
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Tick
I need to escape
           Tick
                  Tick
                         Tick
My very own brain