Brain Tumor


Her brain mauled by obscene thoughts of violence against herself

Defensive little child

Everywhere you look you see the strange, the unconscionable, and the harmful.

Who is good?

You search, gravitating towards the unbound; the ones stretched too thin, the taunting monsters hungry…

for a tension-ed mind to fondle.

You see eyes everywhere,

You search those eyes to find solace, only to come away with a light wisp of humanity.

They all want something or absolutely nothing.

Metropolis of hell

Metropolis to hell

Metropolis the indifferent

Nowhere is there any authenticity

Or is it you my child?

The one cradling your identity

Coaxing it to reveal, some truth of what is really inside.

Perhaps it is your soul that lacks luster and meaning.

You damned angel of metropolis hell.

Leave you say


Chaos is all I know.

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