SNYAPTIC ALCHEMY

Blood moves through my veins,

but not a single bone in my body feels it.

Synapses snap —

and I hear the loss of serotonin.

Sorry I broke what was never a bone.

I wasted time beating

for a desire already gone.

Still, I cry —

with no tears in my eyes.

Breaths weighed down by ghosted winds,

ossicles ring with another synaptic sting.

I hear the loss of endorphins.

Then I swing — a pirouette,

fall on my toes,

leap from the rope.

Fall once.

Fall twice.

Drag to the edge,

clothed in the skin

stolen from paradise.

My towers of tendon,

laced in trembling ligaments.

I jiggle off the twins, try to rise.

Another synapse breaks.

GABA, Epi, Oxy, Dopamine —

still, the quiet alchemy

brews in the acid of my gut.

A muscle twitches.

It's a kick.

He is still alive somewhere within,

hiding in Pandora’s box,

surrounded by the void.