She’s Gone a T’ch Crazy Again

Sometimes
I want to dig into my head
claw and scrape at the spongy wetness
scoop it
my tapioca brain pudding
and smear the pulpy bloodied mess
across the pristine white walls
of everyone’s preconceived notions of conformity

while I laugh madly
stupidly
wildly

and then
i want to shove it down their
reserved
plastic
lemming
throats

“eat it
swallow my chunky parts
choke on the tough chewy
bits
the unpalatable
the inedible”

But I can’t
and they won’t

I guess I can
spin spin spin
until dizzy
and I vomit
up
my mania

(she’s in hysterics
with eyes on fire
and her obnoxious
cackling
bouncing off their
stony
dismayed
faces)

….

Do you know
that most nights
I sit quietly
and knit?

The screaming in my head
turns to a song
a light melody
knit one, purl one
knit one, purl one
knit one, purl one

until I forget
about what was disintegrating
my thoughts in the first place.

Well.
Institutionalization
takes
many forms.

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