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You may think the inside of your brain is filled with wrinkly, ****** tissue, pulsing muscles and veinage beyond compare.

You may think the inside of your brain works three middle-aged men typing away at their first generation apple computers, long folds of paper flying everywhere and constant phone ringing and chatter in the background.

You may think the inside of your brain is nothing but a black abyss. An echo for each thought, the only thing heard. Expanding letters. Each word brightly colored, a soothing voice stretching out each syllable in a whisper.

You may think your brain is in your head.

You may think your brain is in a jar.

You may think your brain is nothing but a jumbled pile of gray matter.

Love your brain. The green elephant flipping switches inside has complete control of your sanity and bowels.
Bring Toilet Paper.
Corrinne Shadow Mar 2020
While out on a walk with a seer,
The maid froze while on the first mile.
"This is not a good place to remember,"
She said with a nervous smile.
~
A fearsome crack
A cry of wrath
A bright red droplet on the path
~
"This is not a safe place to be stepping,"
The maid said, with a frightened glance.
"We had better run home and regroup, friend;
We shouldn't leave this to chance."
~
A cheshire grin
A shatt'ring cry
A nightmare socket with a bloodshot eye
~
"Now, now, dear seer!" I told her.
"Calm yourself, you seem so distressed!
Retreating would be a failure indeed,
To press onward would surely be best."
~
A vicious slice
A gushing flood
A vital veinage, sweet lifeblood
~
I quelled her fears and she followed,
Despite her persistent doubt.
"Honestly," I softly muttered
"There's nothing to be frightened about."
~
A lifeless maid
A slackjawed bride
A headless creature with arms splayed wide
~
We travelled deeper and deeper
Through the path into the dark wood
We travelled so far,  that if we were to shout
No creature would come if they could.
~
A loneliness
A fading light
A blackness like the dead of night
~
Here we stopped. "I need a rest,"
I said to her. She acquiesced.
She turned around. Such woe betide.
And so that foolish seer died.
With all her gifts
She could not see
That I was her true enemy.
My knife did slash.
And she did wail.
I grinned a grin.
I watched her flail.
I watched her fall
Down to the ground.
She made a scream,
Melodious sound!
My work was done.
Her head was gone.
In mine her song
Sung on and on.
I turned and left
That empty glade,
Where no one was
Except the maid.

— The End —