For Kathy - I promised to write this.
For Maya - see bottom of page.
For all those who suffer from MPD, PTSD, and who are manic-depressive or suffer from any other crippling pyschiatric illness. There is always a reason to fight back - You.
by the bars of her window. Yesterday,
she was in chains because the same
cedars were raping her.
Last week, she wept because
the stately trees were cut down,
and she couldn't say goodbye
to her only friends. This morning,
she knew there were no cedars,
simply because there is no window.
I try to smuggle in some
moonbeams wrapped in my
words, but she is too far lost
in the throes of her minds.
Her unwilling guardian angel
wants out of his job – he is
too good for her, she is too used
up by the men before him.
She knew her fate this morning,
but now, she believes, her
mother will come and fight for her –
like just the other day, on her fourth
birthday.
Yesterday she wanted to
die because her father, her
lover, had sold her to his
creditor. Last week, she wept
at his funeral, his mangled
manhood by his side.
The sun stays with her
through the nights sometimes.
Maybe she is his special
child, but I wouldn't know,
for the asters will not tell me.
Her fragrance wafts out
through antiseptics and
haldol and valium, the
source secreted under bedclothes
and paperwork.
She, is 11 years old.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maya is an 11 year old patient at a psychiatric hospice. She is bipolar (manic-depressive), suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD - she has four alters including her real self), and also has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from being raped by her father and his creditors in the woods behind her house. Her step-father does not want her, neither does her mother, but they will not give up custody of the child either.
Poetry by Arti
Read 676 times
Written on 2007-01-19 at 19:39
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For Maya - see bottom of page.
For all those who suffer from MPD, PTSD, and who are manic-depressive or suffer from any other crippling pyschiatric illness. There is always a reason to fight back - You.
Mignonette
Tonight she loves the cedarsby the bars of her window. Yesterday,
she was in chains because the same
cedars were raping her.
Last week, she wept because
the stately trees were cut down,
and she couldn't say goodbye
to her only friends. This morning,
she knew there were no cedars,
simply because there is no window.
I try to smuggle in some
moonbeams wrapped in my
words, but she is too far lost
in the throes of her minds.
Her unwilling guardian angel
wants out of his job – he is
too good for her, she is too used
up by the men before him.
She knew her fate this morning,
but now, she believes, her
mother will come and fight for her –
like just the other day, on her fourth
birthday.
Yesterday she wanted to
die because her father, her
lover, had sold her to his
creditor. Last week, she wept
at his funeral, his mangled
manhood by his side.
The sun stays with her
through the nights sometimes.
Maybe she is his special
child, but I wouldn't know,
for the asters will not tell me.
Her fragrance wafts out
through antiseptics and
haldol and valium, the
source secreted under bedclothes
and paperwork.
She, is 11 years old.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Maya is an 11 year old patient at a psychiatric hospice. She is bipolar (manic-depressive), suffers from Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD - she has four alters including her real self), and also has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) from being raped by her father and his creditors in the woods behind her house. Her step-father does not want her, neither does her mother, but they will not give up custody of the child either.
Poetry by Arti
Read 676 times
Written on 2007-01-19 at 19:39
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Zachary P. B. |
|
Kathy Lockhart |
