I've always been different. I knew that much. The secretive whispers behind closed doors echoed like a symphony at the forefront of my mind. They called me crazy. I called it 'suggestive reality.' Concerned family brought me to a place to get well. I the word 'home' but this place was far from that term. The building was a monochromatic pastel of underlying postmortem depression.
They told me my mind was empty-that I might have to stay here awhile. It wasn't empty at all. The voices always talked so loud so I can't hear what people say. I don't know how to answer, so I don't. Images flicker across my vision in broad specks of wonder. They don't see what I see. Thy think I'm quiet but they don't hear me silently screaming. It threatened me. I panicked a lot and was terrified.
They don't understand! They call me unfixable but I didn't choose to be broken. I didn't want this. I'm not unfixable. I'll be okay once I'm safe. If they only knew I don't like sleeping. I didn't feel safe at all. When my eyes were closed. They called it 'insomnia', but I felt safer awake. I knew my surroundings and I saw things coming.
Empitness. They told me my head was empty. I wish that was the case. If it was, I wouldn't be here. My heart is empty-searching for a reason to beat. My stomach was empty. anorexia nervosa they called it. They think I don't understand them. But I hear all of what they say and what they don't. Emptiness; a present past.
I wasn't easily persuaded. but I heard some nurse speak of 'God'. He's supposed to love all His children. That when they died, mommy says they sleep forever and death wasn't real, they go to him. they fly to Him in heaven. Mommy calls it, stars, the souls of the sleepy. They gave me pills to sleep but I saved them. If I had enough, I could sleep forever like mommy said. I could be a star in the shadowy blanket in the sky. I could be accepted and maybe have the pretty angel play with me. Running on clouds; chasing the stars
