Corpus Amygdaloideum


Don't all living things deserve to be loved?


Mutilated melancholy nothing.

What was I writing besides words staining pages?


Just more thoughts carving out furrows,

writhing through canyons in consciousness.


Undulating streams

clawing and scratching,

wrinkling change.


Amygdala is searing through cortex and burning through brains

combusting through callous reason with sinewy rage.

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