Despair

“This used to be my brain, now is a grave yard
where memories rot in grey and brown shades.
Once I could remember what they were about.
I do not mind. My mind has done with me.”

She stares over the street that she can’t name.
Her room is on the top floor of the building
where windows never open. Black birds
smash themselves against the glass. Despair.

“I need a spade,” she tells the nurse who frowns.
“I need to dig the grave yard up.”
Her medication is adjusted. Another black bird
kills itself by wanting to get in. Some years go by.

One morning her bed is found empty. A window
is shattered, glass everywhere. But no sign of her,
she seems to have disappeared. A note says:
“Gone to do some digging.” And a black bird screams.

Advertisements

Comments on: "Despair" (6)

  1. I guess she got her spade after all! And she did leave a note…..

  2. Someone should make sure we all have a spade.

  3. The illusion of sanity we all cling to…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: