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 Joy Nicholsen | Year Posted 2012
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