Happy Place

Trauma has wrapped me in its slimy tentacles Tightening, till my depression becomes clinical Man with yellow pad listens obligingly Then into my happy place he is guiding me I imagine my beautiful tropical island home All is serene and I am finally alone Turquoise waters pet the shores sand Oh so ready to rest from life in this land With long hypnotic strokes, newness is washed away Carried into the Icy depths of ancient days I sit, contented for once, on the hot white grains Coconut in hand yet taste of... oatmeal remains I cannot tell the time, nor anything truly measure In my island retreat, alone, I will stay forever. *the nurse continues spooning oatmeal into the patients open maw Wiping his chin after each bite and closing his jaws.