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Brain Cracks

There are so many fissures in my brain

Asking for clearance, so many fixtures

Asking for guidance, crevices to dig out of,

gullies too spooky my name with.

My brain is a story I tell over & over again

Repeating my name with different syllables each time.

The stories we tell, our reality.

Many of mine are stuck, in cracks, wedged deep into the past

Of repeat, repeat, repeat

& sometimes you just want to Jump UP

Over the cliff and say fuck it.

Walk away & save falling, for another day.

Flying past levitation I meditate

To observe the patterns I have etched into this stone surface

Except it’s not stone

& though nerves may fail and die from lack of connection

& heart attacks cause exhaustion from repeated exposure

neural pathways ARE alive, re-forgeable and plastic

This is more like a garden we grow

Each time we open our eyes,

Open our hands

with roots that can be re-grafted, removed, and transplanted

&

there’s a reason we bleed.

Stones can’t.

Copyright Adrienne Adams October 29th 2015

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