Brittle In The Middle Of My Skull Poem by Richard Jarboe

She made me brittle in the middle of my skull,
Brittle in the middle, she played me like a fiddle,
Brittle in the middle of my skull.

I was loosey -goosey,
Until I met Lady Lucy,
Now I'm brittle in the middle of my skull.

Once limber and lithe,
Now I hardly survive,
Brittle in the middle of my skull.

And it's all a riddle
Brittle in the middle of my skull,
And I might add, it's personal,
Brittle in the middle of my skull.