The dusty particles in the air looked like
the inside of my mind brought to life
Every spec scattered and bouncing off
each other like repelling thoughts
I bent my neck in agony to gain the attention
of one of the workers
Motioning with my fingernails the exact spot
at the top of my head they need to make the
first incision to peel my scalp back
Saw through my skull and yank my brain free
They placed it on a wooden bench and
held my eyelids open for me to watch
as they gathered their tools
But they\'re job doesn\'t begin with the pulsing
pink ball of flesh sweating under the hot glare
of the sun
Instead they return to the gaping hole in my
head
And attempt to fill it words that don\'t seem to
fit quite right
Bloody streaks of tears were pooling down my
cheeks as I begged them to clean it out first
So they strung out the cobwebs like cotton
candy around their fingers
All of my fears and bad habits clung to them
as stubborn as melting sugar
With it finally gone, the bugs started to make
an appearance
They stung, pricked and bled me as they
vacated and the virus followed close behind
them
The sudden whirring of a machine sprang my
shoulders upright
And I bit my tongue as I felt every thought I
have ever had to question my very existence
be vacuumed up, out and away from me
In that moment I was finally able to plant
my entire heel on the concrete floor and
balance myself for the first time
And then without warning, ice cold water was
poured into me and I started to spasm
My body unfamiliar of what it felt like to feel
alive for the first time
Unfamiliar of what it felt like to hear your own
heartbeat in your ears and knew exactly
where to find it to hear that sound again
When the water had settled and the chill was
thawed off of my bones,
Two Workers tipped me over on my side
and drained me
I wanted that feeling of letting go to last a
little longer
So I held the funnel when the water was
poured again
The second rinse felt and looked less murky
with self hate
I was no longer dirty or stained with trauma
from my past
Deep scars remained, but nothing a little
stuffing couldn\'t fix
The pink organ seemed to be pulsing with
more determination by the time they were
ready to replace it
I welcomed it as the super glue bind my skull
back together
And barely flinched when the needle
punctured my scalp and pulled the thread tight
I was on my bare feet when I left skipping
through the doors of the workshop
But I was standing on the tip of my toes when I
peered in through the window
Begging them to let me in
Screaming at the workers
Don\'t you have anything to fix me up too?
-- n.n.b