Being Brain


I ask my Eye
to stop crying.
I tell my Heart
to stop breaking.
And crying they,
brokenly say:
“Stop it, you,
fool Brain!
How would you
know the pain?”
Do you have
a heart, they ask.
Do you long
for a glace,
they ask.

I keep mum.
it is true:
I have no heart. No eye.
I can’t feel, nor can see.
I can’t break nor can cry.
But that does not
Render me
Purged of all misery.

Because after all
it is i who
has the memories:
It is i who
recognizes the face
which makes my Eye
with longing cry.
It is i who everyday
identifies the voice
which breaks my Heart.

But i keep mum.
I wake up everyday
tangled in the dreams
of the past
and the memories of a future
yet to come.
Extricating myself ruthlessly
i give commands,
asking the Heart to beat,
telling the Eye to see.

Because i can’t afford
to break down and cry.
Because i need to live
in the present
I need to survive
the Day.
Because the Nights..
Well, the Nights
are spent in the past.
Going over words.
Things unsaid…

The thorny tendrils
of long past memories
dig their tentacles
into my soft membrane
refusing to let go.
They show in HD, 5D
every small detail.
replaying the scenes
long buried.
Choking me, mocking me.
I am after all
Just Brain.
I can’t feel. Can’t see.
I can’t express.

Just like a voodoo doll:
I live
seeing and feeling
the pins
stabbing into me
going deep within
killing me slowly
tortuously slow.
But like a doll
i don’t die. I can’t die.
I can’t even cry.

So i live
paying the penance
For the sins
of others:
Of the eye that saw
and the heart
that loved.

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