My Brain Is Janked

My Brain

Why do you torture me,
BRAIN?
I thought you liked living
in a dank house─
no, not quite a house─

A flat, that’s the word!
I thought you liked living
in this cramped flat, but you leave
stuffed animals lying.
The fridge is always barren.
Nothing plays on the TV
anymore.

I apologize, BRAIN. That’s…
not your fault.

Is it?

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4 thoughts on “My Brain Is Janked”

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