Datsy

First notice of it

Start to lose its grip 

Traction hooks on the cranium 

Maybe somewhere in front or behind the ear

One of those suture lines. 

It can usually hold tight

But then starts to loose its grip 

Likely slimy slug slowly slipping south

Or like a rock climber holding on for dear life 

Maybe suddenly all at once the brain slips

Starts to slide 

Hanging precipitously over some vestigial nerve 

Tucked away behind the Vagus

Or some other nerve 

As it takes with it that definition of self 

Gives way to reflexes of survival

And waking up 

Trying to do laundry 

Trying to eat 

At least trying to go to work 

Well that’s what it feels like, 

Otherwise known as depression.