Ann K. Schwader
 

Mindsweeper
 
 

alone at last
in her own skull she struggles
home overloaded with festering ghosts
haunting exhausted synapses
explosive raw
rage / caustic jealousy / sodden depression

proscribed emotions
prescribed exorcisms

by this our rarest psionic savior
wingman to the machine
Society
trained tamed telepath therapist angel
disarming the terrors
between our ears

till she is never quite alone
even here at her mirror / her midnight confessor
compelling the toothbrush
she overloads
with foaming hygienic paste before sticking it
deep in one ear canal

where it never
fits but each night she tries harder
 

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