Thursday, 11 August 2011

BRAIN MATTER


Tiny grey pieces of brain matter
Each holding a different piece of me
Each containing a different memory
Each one a different part of the puzzle.

Rip them apart,
Put them back together
And leave out gaping holes.
Room for improvement,
Space to forget.

I wish I was splayed out
On a hospital gurney.
Eviscerated and cleaned out.
A bloody pumping mess
Waiting to be refilled.
Waiting to be made whole and perfect
Without all of the damaged raw meat
That fills me at the moment.

Tiny grey pieces of brain matter.
Some I use
Some I don't
Some I wish I didn't have.

Funny how something so small and soft
Can seem so vast and solid
When you try to hold it.

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