Where were you
When I saw you
By those gates of fire
In those lightless eyes
By the screams
Of your choking heart?
As outside world slips away
And you are left with the only world that truly exists
The loss of inhibition
And the disconnect at the medulla
Is it the GABA
Is it glycine
The pre frontal
Is it acerylcholine
Is it dopamine
Is it gates opening
That myoclonic farewell to control
That combination lock
That melatonin and cortisol tussle over
In our lipid laden spongy creases
Furiously working away without any distraction from the sedative of interaction and sounds and sights.
A brain whose raison d’être is to find patterns and connections from randomness and meaning from the intangible.
Why some more than others.
What about those who lie in emptiness
Whose other worlds are completely hidden even from themselves?
And those who remember every detail from birth?
What about the good dreams and those who feel fresh in the morning?
Is it a self fulfilling prophecy for everything to make sense?