| because you can’t protect the brain from the self.

 

For a split second, dogs ran, digging to find what they lost.

For a split second, the tall child was weeping for a glimmer; 

The entire time lost, so look for a hollow shell to crawl into.

 

Stretched-out walls covered in bones
Push you to run away from what you know;

Footsteps crunch and not from snow.
Blame holes in my brain, rotting it away.

Yours is clouded with the sea mist of the ocean’s surface.

 

Like the brain of a goldfish, never remember I have ten fingers, 

Only six embroidered in pale silver and gold.

Remember your brain being whole?—not mine;

Yours doesn't have holes in nine different places.

Yet you hold a vessel—a hollow, empty vessel.

 

In the end, it always seems to linger.
It lingered like never before.

Weight of a head growing on my cranium brought comfort and peace; 

Gentle grazing grass slipping through hands of gold;

Dogs stopped digging when the sky thundered.

 

For a split second, the tall child found a glimmer.

I could feel the wind brush against my face- it all lingered.