The trees are amazing creations, They've taken a dead matter, and formed It into a shape of branches, twigs And leaves, which like thoughts absorb the light, grow, and produce the food, fueled by the Energy, the wonderful offspring of the Earth.
You cling to me like cellophane, wrapping yourself around myself with your electric forked tongue, as you drag each of my neurons out into the world; exposed they are, as I am left to feel their nakedness and chills.
I feel their bite and electric fields; their pain has become my friend.
I suffer from three different disorders that can be very painful. This poem is the best way I can explain it to you. Maybe you can relate, maybe not but that's up to you. Live long and prosper my fellow poets.
They inject it into your brain Directly through the skin and through the skull Don’t even ask about the pain Anyway, it seeps into the cortex Lighting up the neurons with memories What memories? First piggy back, first pulled tooth, first death wish Soft stuff springing into sparks And then oh, the flames Don’t even ask about the pain The straining emotion remains, of course And new connections are made Stemming phylum connections between One ethereal feeling to the overwhelming onslaught of You know, things Then the frontal lobe takes a break It sips that stuff and stops And thinks- we all know where that leads Detachment and dissociation start dancing They tango to the dull beat of your heart It thump thumps and there’s nothing else really Your brain wakes up every few minutes The background music playing And it makes you **** in this weird cold air Stuff happens, things stay alive And the injection well It’s faded the minute it was dispensed You were never more or less awake But it’s all still moving slow-quick Slow down, you say quickly It speeds up You’re feeling everything that’s ever been felt What a rush what an end
Now it ends. You slouch You see there isn’t a needle or a pen Nor a blade of any kind And the thumps are replaced by heavy thuds The sound rattling in your ear canal You inject it into your brain again Nothing You get up to brush your teeth and wash your face.
there’s that quote on the internet that goes, “every cell in the human body replaces itself after 7 years, one day i will have a body that you have never touched,”
and it is false. asides from the fact that many cells need ten years before they’re fully replaced, neurons in the cerebral cortex never do; even if some die, you keep the ones you were born with and my body is clean from your touch, but my mind was not as lucky to escape your poison and day-by-day i erode until i’m left shaking and sobbing, wishing i could rip my own skin off and crack through my skull to peel away layers of my stupid, stubborn, recalcitrant brain.
maybe it was my fault. i should’ve known better than to trust a demon in a man suit, but i was looking at the small flickering coals of you, a fire built at your birth and then forgotten along the way, so you had nearly died even as you lived, so i gently fed the fire and stoked the flames and in return you blazed up in one mighty inferno and scorched me and everything and everyone else around us and it was still i who was contrite, you turned this around on me and it was i who apologized and collapsed crying on the floor.
mom never told me not to play with fire, it’s my own ****** fault i got burned.
For what can we hold as our own but our secrets. A refuge, protected by the endless bounds in labyrinths of corticocircuitry. An inmasterable code of sporadic impulses delivering refuge of an imaginable world.
To leap synapse to synapse in an abstract journey through the depths of our being.
Our darkest fears, Our brightest desires running and clawing their ways into the most superficial layers of conscious thought.
For what do we have when light exposes the demons whom linger and realism paints over the beautiful picture of dreams.
What do we have but variables in the most insignificant equation of our existence.
And then, even then, the beauty of the equation would be painted in grey.
Some people choose to feel numb to shut away the pain, others feel numb because the pain shut them down. I apologize to my nociceptors, and my neurons. I never meant for things to get this way, I never meant to hurt you.