dearest brain

the dearest brain,
the cortex, complex,
soft and maleable,
which under sky’s eternal grasp,
turns into blooming,
a thorned ill.

the dearest brain,
its neurons woven in
a loop, through which
thoughts stumble in
quick motion.

the dearest brain,
oh dearest brain,
why do you haunt me so?
why do you torture me,
as if I am not you?