The friction from
my constant mental
exertions of repetitive
motions on the page
forms brain blisters, and
following full filling the
needing feeling of
cutting just to bleed
with a rusted razor
blade, I must drain
the buckets of
bloody puss and/
or clear serum,
from the exposed
epidermis to the
lowest layers of
swollen skin.
Soaking bruised
lobes in a tepid tub,
my scabs ripen for
the harvest picking;
healing peeling
red dye number five
skinless sheets
and clotted carotid
arteries of deflated veins,
as cerebral strokes
contribute critical thinking
to curb the surging
creative hemorrhage.
