Neurons

I may have been a shaman once,

but not now.

Just a pet fish flopping

on a carpeted floor,

a feast for cats,

a small child’s tears.

A 600 pound woman

who has fallen

and crushed her dog.

A mother wakes

on top of her lifeless baby.

Roadkill dying alone,

in pain,

scared.

Heartsickness booming

Disgust that my brain

considers these things

The same neurons that

invent horrors,

allow me to

straddle the chasm

between grey and blue.

The same neurons

sometimes give me hope.