In the Psychiatric Emergency Room
You make up reasons for skipping pills. You must lie because the robins are watching, rolling both paranoid eyeballs, their jaundiced bellies bulging like your yet-to-be-named son when he died in your arms. Waking up from a loop of sleepless nights, you see the dusty crib melting into a distorted dance, a vivid voice, an irresistible sign. You run, oily hair flapping, like a forest fire.
You won’t confess that your naked belly is another psychiatric room with no windows but echoing walls and chairs nailed to the floor. Compulsively, you listen, and hear children giggling out of your ears.
Photo Credit: Cat
wow
That second paragraph change is excellent; powerful is an understatement.
Oh gosh.This knocked the wind out of me.