In sickness and in health

My brain
A four pound cosmos
Of matter
Does matter
To me. Neurochemicals
Marinate with me
Moving from baby, to
5th grader, to high schooler
To Adult A slow and sour picking
My head absorbs
From Delusions to
Lying like mushrooms
In a bed of decompose
Of depression and darkness Pulling me out of it
A slow, gentle and firm
Bringing medicine for sickness
And the talking out
Of tar and gravel Unrelenting shame
Dissolved as
I make eye contact
Now. The holy despair
Turns to
The Holy Communion
Of the
Poets, Artists and preachers
In my brain, as ______________ chimes
“Welcome to my world,
Won’t you please come in.”
Copyright © 2018 by Carolyn M. Bevington. All Rights Reserved.

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