As I signed the contract

The red ink quivered around the pen tip

bleeding onto the paper

underlining an equivocating point.

And I realized

that the pen had become a part of me

my sixth sense warning my weary mind of any dangers

avoiding unwanted disbeliefs.

That this pen was my brain

thinking was no longer necessary

and laziness would become routine

and a necessity.

But now the ink is running dry

I realize I lost my brain

not just a part

but the whole shazang

on that day when I stopped using it.