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Rated: E · Poetry · Adult · #2008567
Once I was hit so hard that it left me with a mass on my brain and cranial pressure issues

-Mass Cerebrum-
by Keaton Foster
*Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5* *Vignette5*


The doctor
Said
Kind friend
Serious fiend
Existing in between
There is a lump
In your head
Upon your brain
Honestly
I’m wondering
How is it
That you
Patient number zero
Is still here living
You should be dead
An explosion
From the pressure
Building in your skull
Should have by now
Caused a detonation
An eruption
Of bio hazardous material
Pure death
Via tragic circumstances
But you are not
Matter of fact
You are very much alive
Much more than most
Your thoughts epic
Your ideas terrifying
All that you convey
Beyond scope and scale
Such a form of release
Easily must be relieving
Some of the pressure
Just enough
To keep your head
From bursting
What you have
Is not cancerous
Not malignant
What you have
Is not a common ailment
Nothing I’ve ever seen
Nothing quite so real
Many of times to me
You have called it a gift
Medically
It’s more of a curse
But I must admit
Chomping at the bit
That I’m curious
To examine it
To accurately dissect it
Slicing it along the seems
Ripping it where need be
Taking something so amazing
And reducing it to fragments
Of its former greatness
All of that will happen
Per our discussion
If and when you meet
Your prescribed end
Then I’ll be next
Waiting in line
Waiting for you
Upon the slab
I’ll gut you like a fish
Cutting you
From stem to stern
I’ll crack that melon wide
Removing your distorted brain
I’ll measure its weight
Study its density
I view each and every mass
Nothing about it will be
Overlooked or understudied
I’ll know all of your secrets
I’ll make them truths
Forever it
Your brain will last
Placed in some jar
Pickled like food
Left in a ripe stew
To continue on
For ages upon ages
Without the rest of you
Then
Just as we debated
Just as you agreed
Your body will be sealed up
The voids filled with mush
Proverbially stuffed
With whatever is around
And according to your wishes
Your carcass will be set ablaze
A spectacle for no one to see
Your ashes will be scattered
Upon some distant breeze
A few kind words will be said
In your name
Upon your behalf
God will be asked
About forgiveness
His answer to you
Will no doubt
Be forthcoming
Mass cerebrum
Not from birth
Not from creation
But rather it appears to be
From serious conditioning
Patient number zero
I suspect that you are alive
Because of what you do
To find a way to release yourself
From an impending doom
That is my medical opinion
And of course
Opinions are like everything else
We all have them
Wrong, right
For better or worse
No difference do most make
They are just educated ideas
Sensible outcomes
Our shots in the dark
One thing that I know
Without any question
Is that the pressure
Is indeed great
The ways in which survive
The how comes of your life
And the everything
That makes you unique
Will be studied thoroughly
Both while you are alive
And long after you have expired…




Mass Cerebrum
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014.
Note: I have had a valve put in my head to release the pressure. I take a half a dozens pills and have severe memory issues because of it. This all stems from significant abuse as a child. If you've read my work, its quite apparent that I have had a hellish childhood. This poem is all true...


© Copyright 2014 Keaton Foster: Know My Hell! (keatonfoster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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