Cerebral Cobwebbing

They speak to me.
Their mouths don’t move, but
I hear them.
Not in my ears,
I don’t hear them in my ears,
I hear them in my brain.
Their voices are like spiders
crawling over my temporal lobe,
slinking across the surface,
infesting the cortex.

The spiders weave tangled webs
across the corpus callosum
and begin to annex both hemispheres.
Conquering insects
plant their flags inside the fissures
before digging down,
crawling deep within to lay their eggs
and die
and rot
and birth
inside my hypothalamus.

When I speak
my words stick to the walls
and the dead… they laugh
and their laugh is
a rusted saw blade hacking
through a taut spring
inside of my skull.
Like that irresistible tendency
to poke at a fresh bruise,
I cannot deny it.
I crave it, I seek it out
and I want it all the more
as every bit of silence becomes
blank – blank – blank
and I can’t live
without the cacophony
of dead speak
rattling around inside my cerebellum
and creeping, slowly
down the stem.

Cerebral Cobwebbing

Poetic-Assault

Hendersonville, United States

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

It’s like static electricity creeping through your skull. Can you feel them too? Shh.

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