Broadcasts
report that my frontal lobe has been overrun. Lesions of the damned occupy my
zones. Shock troops and sapper units deplete my forces. Resistance cells, besieged
on all sides. Unable to hold the line. Of my failing self. Just a few loyal
partisan remnants of me carrying the fight. Former comrades strafe my grey
matter. The neural runways pockmarked by bomb craters blocking take off. Interdicting
my diction. I can hear Morse code broadcasts outlined inside my skull. Either
that or it is a white noise of electrical waves trying to jump across the ruptures.
Mudder, I am ravaged and being stripped of my memories, my experiences, my
language and my childhood. I am returning to the state of nothing when I was
inside you. Please receive me generously.
They
expand upwards ever upwards. Seeking the light, in order to eclipse me. The
slow accumulation defying gravity. Honing their aculeation, ready to receive
me. To impale me on their spikes. A chalky maiden press. This calcification of
my mind. Annexing my powers against me. As I squat huddled at the crown.
Dripping rusted parts of my being, to further augment their Babel
tower. Stalactite me seeding stalagmite them. Narrowing towards one another,
the joust of two knights most unchivalric. If we flawlessly align, our whetted
points will just abut, dovetailing harmlessly. Michaelangelo’s god infusing
pneuma into a recumbent Adam. The handshake of the Red Army with the American
69th Infantry at the Elbe. But if the pinpoint precision is out by
any fraction of a degree, at best we will scrape against one another and send
up shower of malignant sparks. At worst they will pierce my mass and fatally
gouge my nucleus.
3 comments:
Alzheimers is a very sad condition, and I think perhaps it's sadder for those who have to watch it as the person slowly forgets who even they are.......
Oh, wow.
Really powerful stuff, Marc.
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