Scraping More Brain

There is ringing in my ears. It's deep, I can dig but I'll never reach it. It is always there. The discipline within reach for many physical endeavors may be a way to cope, but I will always know where to find it. Instead I would drown it with other noise.

Places that are known to be vile are taken as such by comparison of what is vile means but there are many forms of it. The one that arrives feels personal, and something to not be shared. What are not the crutches of the world are the pillars of the sky. Into the dark cold damp bowel where there are teeth and breaths that left time long ago. The rabbit remembers the breath as the foliage remembers the shrinking of the sun. 

What the brain is trained to grasp is what the brain craves, and in denying that the self resists fulfillment. Cracks that appear in the ice don't necessarily weaken its structure, at least in no practical way.