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 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... |