Padded Life
Torn up mattresses stapled to the walls
deafen the sounds of the screaming.
I’m talking, talking to the man
with no ears, when I look,
he’s not really there at all.
Coming at me with outstretched
arms he squeezes me to death
like a half-starved boa, then
I wake up, alone.
In a lonely room with
pillows taped to the walls
and only a tiny window in
the door to see a fleeting
glimpse of the man in charge.
Coming at me with outstretched
arms he claws and bites, bleeding
me out onto their clean white
floor, then I wake up, alone.
Padded walls and padded floors
keep me from harm inside
the world he has created. Tough
to live with people out to get
you. Friends think you’re
kidding, neighbors think
you’re delusional, but here I
lie on the floor, slowly dying,
all alone.
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