A SPLIT MIND IS CONVENIENT TO HIDE THE AXE
Nobody will identify the glitter of the buried axe in the darkness of the split mind. Nobody ever sees it wielded in the sunlight again. Instead the split mind sheathes it completely. Never mind the calluses on the hands of those who swing it. The hostility of
wood in even feminine hands. And when medication makes the split mind lose control of the facial muscles, the family is as far from blaming the sharp blade embedded in the mind as they are from accounting for the disappearance of the calluses on their own hands.
Richard reads "A Split Mind...":
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Richard confesses: "Poe's 'I...buried the axe in her brain' has always made a deep impression on me. I was probably also trying to account for my family's hand in the institutionalization of my uncle from adolescence to his late seventies for schizophrenia."