room 101

i try and tell you
of my room 101
with a hard stare
and a fear
over two candles

i cannot say
the black crows circling
over gothic ruins, the
frosted grass and my
winter panes, the
invisible bars

i cannot say the
choking fear in the throat -
don't cry don't cry they'll
see - as i shift my
crutches and wonder if
my body can
get up off the chair

the ward is quiet
stale air unmoving
and down the corridor
past these beds i hear
the TV and the strumming
singing of the blonde
boy in red clothes, flaming,
mad as a hatter

and the roller-shutter hatchways
where i had to choose
the food that was keeping

my body alive
and holding in my
wandering mind, the panic
bird in my chest, my
broken broken heart

i cannot say the
bone pain, the scream
of them as i could not
lie, or turn, or stand,
or sit, or fall down
without searing my brain
with pain

i cannot say the
isolation, the absolute
loneliness, the barred
door the imprisoned
eyes and lungs that longed to
breathe crisp winter air
but was not allowed
out there - the wheelchair

narrow and uncomfortable
not under my jurisdiction

i cannot tell
the stark awful white
fright of powerlessness, of
disempowerment, of
volition taken away - any
wild thing imprisoned
goes mad - the bed my
world and the slightest
vibration of the ward floor -
a casual dunt of the bed -
my sheer red hell of
knifing pain

i cannot say the freezing
of a life, the stunted grass,
the dereliction, where i
disappeared from view and came up
broken, unmade, the staring
eyes of hospital staff, the indifferent
hearts, unhearing
ears, unseeing eyes

as this meat was
pinned and placed in linen,
and, job done, the
door closed and they
left me alone - the whole

world was gone and there was
no-one to trust
no-one to care
for a piece of drifted rubbish
lying there, i never saw

love like the
one i lost when
she died, and me left

all outside with
strangers and fears; in a
humanitarian place of licence
and success, of skill
and years of training
for the ill - there were

no humans there - their
machine stares, rude mouths
and casual hands, their
forcing arms and accusations
undid my care

and a hatred grew
for life
for their lack

i cannot say
my fear, here, now,
over a dinner table
miles and years from there
The Teetering Woman
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