my amygdala and me

my amygdala was running wild
for a while.
getting it's daily dose
of self producing dopamine,
my opioid of choice.
fear and reward, oh how that
little almond shaped
piece of tissue in my brain
got a work out
from the ups and downs of
infatuation thought to be love.
I became a junkie in an alley
waiting for my next fix, via
text or email or phone call,
or a sister like kiss on the cheek.
the dope was getting weaker
and weaker, so I needed more
and more. hit me
up again, it would say to me
in the morning, at lunch, at
night. give me another dose
of her stingy affection. come
on brother, help a brain out.
mediocre and washed out is fine
now. even if it's fake,
just me something to make
this pain go away a put
a grimacing smile upon my
tired face.