Susan Finnis Poet Free verse

Cage

my brain has its own life,
its own conversations,
never-ending circumlocutions

this confabulation of memory
leaves me unsure of
the reality of my thoughts

is this a chemical misstep,
a minuscule of glutamate
misplaced or missing

or is it a mistake in my
biological majuscules,
an A or a G gone awry,
leaving mental havoc in its wake

or perhaps just a wiring mishap,
a failing to bridge synapses to
the branched flourishes of dendrites,
leaving me thirsty for truth,
a truth now conflated with errata

can the brain heal itself,
restore effaced letters 
to historiated initials
or will it descend into darkness,
gradually ceasing its conversations,
forgetting all spelling,
and become a silent grey cage

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