Mabh Savage
Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Sponge
Brain like a sponge. Soaking information up. Absorbing everything. But a sponge is…leaky. Drippy. Is information trickling slowly from my ears? And on a night, when fatigued, my head feels squishy and nauseatingly malleable; is that a symptom of having a brain like a sponge? What if I absorb too much? Will I over expand and strain? No, a sponge never does that. So as more goes in, something somewhere must be coming out. That explains lost moments; wandering into rooms and forgetting why one is there; keys lost forever and cards replaced only to turn up the very next day; birthdays, names and even faces lost to oblivion. I’m sorry, dear lost memory, I can’t be held responsible; I have a brain like a sponge.
Mabh Savage 