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11:39:00 PM CDT
The Beginning of Hospitalization
Time is oblivious,
inside these whitewashed walls.
Flourescent light blinds you as you sink
into your plastic chair -- wasting away
from depression and sleeping aids.
Workers watching from every corner,
but no one looks at you in your eyes -- or your pain.
Stepping into the light but being blinded
by shock.
Seeing clearly comes soon, but first
you must be rocked,
by morbid, life changing
waves.
Code Yellow! Code Yellow!
My words erupt and cause chaos amongst
myself and my fellow slaves.
Copyright 2004.
The Eccentric Beauty
Time moves slowly, and the metamorphosis
is happening, for better and for worse.
You run and you run, to catch up with
the species called people,
but you're still stuck in time,
trying to move at a faster pace.
Still, you are in slo-mo, and people are passing you,
quicker and quicker.
You wonder why you are still running in this race.
The metamorphosis has completed,
and your mind and body are no longer the same.
You know now you never had knowledge of this kind of life.
Your bug wings have sprouted, and
now you can fly away.
Copyright 2005.
For months, I've been encouraging my daughter to put some of her poetry in her online journal. It's private, and I can't read it. (Dang it!) I've also asked if she would let me put some of her poetry here in my journal. The first poem was written last fall, November 15 to be exact, soon after she was admitted to a hospital for the treatment of anorexia and bulimia and depression. The second poem was written last month and was inspired in part by the meter of Pink Floyd's Time and in thinking about those people who felt like they never belonged. I'm hoping she'll let me share more of her poetry.
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Hi Cynthia, I'm just visiting for the first time. I'm enjoying your journal.
And my prayers and thoughts are with you and your daughter as she tries to recover... and bless you for sharing her poetry and for being so clearly, obvisouly proud of her writings. I wish every writer had a devoted cheering section in his or her corner, because pursuing the craft can make you feel so vulnerable.
~Kim
http://journals.aol.com/a40somethinglife/Fitreflections/ -
You said.... "I'm hoping she'll let me share more of her poetry"
I say "Me too!" Thanks for sharing! ~Sooz -
Good for your daughter. It's wonderful to get this view into her feelings, which are so familiar to me. She sees deeply.
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She writes beautifully. Just like you. :)
Tami
4/17/05 3:24 PM
Hug her for me and tell her what an incredible gift she has.