Kill my body, for I am already dead. Dragging this case with labels. Labels like name, birthdate, skin color, and body size. It's just a body; I am here. Where you have forgotten me. I am part of this body, an organ.. Mistook for the heart, hands or eyes. But I am what controls them all. The texture you feel when walking barefoot, the places you see or smell, and all the emotions you feel. You call me brain. I ask that you kill this body, because the things it feeling are different than the rational decisions I know how to make. So wouldn't it be right to eliminate the issue? I wish it were that easy.
YOU ARE READING
Your Cold Body
PoetryThoughts relating to nearly anything. Could apply to some or many. Consists of rational and irrational thoughts from me. Why would you read this? Hell if I know. It's pretty amusing to get a peek at what happens in other people's mind. So, if that's...
