Veterans Administration

emotionless i sat very still craving life creating 
fountains of hidden tears the sheer malice of it 
was beneath me i'd fondled with madness 
on an even cue i'd noted sighs of relief i'd mastered 
cures and balanced posture showing little grains 
of movement eye contact was bleak starring back 

at me while an audience spoke out in great detail 
my firm endeaver was to survive a crippling disease 
of the mind that basically say's you are mad you are 
the lost reaching for peace in a crowded room inside 
of your head thoughts raced while images became 
moving targets i needed to embrace be still holding 

on to a mere after thought that i was welcome amid 
the norm why i wasn't functioning amid the norm 
faint hues began to folly underneath quiet chants 
i'd spoken to myself while the room inside my head 
filled with whispers hisses daunting noises catering 
to my steadfast notion that this was somehow norm 

the crowd spoke of loneliness deep sadness grief 
traumatic moments and loss i gathered the crowd 
swiftly content with portraying us all within 
one bathroom mirror graveness i thought morally
 poshed i suppose my hands were wet my breathing 
very shallow an yet an audience applauded my simple 

need to crave such undivided attention from self 
why i'd craved the night crawling jest of my kindred 
spirit mildly worn an yet i knew this feeling well 
it had consumed me leaving little room for self 
to move forward still i sat trying to remember a time 
a place my eyes stared back at me a rather empty 
expression vague an yet excepting

Copyright © Yolanda Nicholsen | Year Posted 2012

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