The part of my brain that deals with the rules of poetry is archived in some dusty part of my brain, but while sorting through some files, I came across the following:

Baggage Claim
Aesthetic Beauty
As I listen to words about Basal Ganglia and frontal lobes, I use my long term memory skills to think back to Grade 3 concussions and memory loss. Clean architectural lines. Lost flower power. Sitting in a bright teal room trimmed with gold and Greek statues, murals on the wall. My brain is moving.
Homefront.
Harry Moving Boxes.
Playhouse on it's way.
Bailey Queen of Castle.
New Neighbors & Old.
Overview Courses-
A little bit of knowledge is a dangerous thing. ADHD- stuff I know about - I become aware, others don't- but we're the ones who keep quiet.


I found it strangely poetic. The part that is music to my ears though: I wrote this while at PRA's CRA days and also less than a week removed from the misery I call my old neighbors. Life has improved and that crazy depressed part of my brain that thinks it is creative is once again sleeping. I am still a big fan of baggage claim though, especially when it is crowded and Tetris like.