Grey Matters

It's insidious
The schism that develops

mind deep

Where grey-matter drifts

apart like continents

Stretching synaptic limbs,

waving across

An ever-widening split

Trying to maintain

balance, the gentle

inner ear cannot

Get a fix on the tinny

echoes threatening

to tip the whole

tinted miasma

There has been

No warning,

Nothing like a prelude,

Or an overture;

The nicks occurring

regularly throughout

The disordered mind

are tiny—

Infinitesimal really—

They accrue

until their number

is such, they are linking

with vivid intensity

Bloodying the grey

Widening the chasm

Creating an

unbreachable abyss

S.E.Ingraham©