Unravelling A Universe
One part of the brain lights up
with memories, smell and sound
lights up another part.
Occipital for sight. Buttons holding
bits together, like points of conflict
in a picture book.
Some memories surface, a pool
of happiness, some, like sadness,
keep themselves imprisoned.
Some are raw without husk or shell,
like a promise of injury if revisited.
But I was a typical kid. Skin. Skull.
Me, thinking that I could unravel
the universe, and make it my own.
©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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