The Quiet Room

All I Want

All I want is the luxury of sleep the all-consuming wonder

She infuses me with warmth and wills my slumber

Till my whole day is spent lying under the covers.

Speak to me in dreams and my life shall be a dream

I see the red brick plaza reaching out to the street

Let me lie down there on a bench, catching sunbeams.

Some of my favorite times were spent at that window

Looking down as people pass and the flags billow

Out and snap against the pole as the wind blows.

I cry out in pain like a building imploding

Everything I have rushes to the center and falls

And even the words I would say become whispers of dust

The trees around me are unstirred, their greenness shames me

They grow despite the winter, despite the drought

They lift their arms elegantly and hold them there and dance

On a day when wind stirs the flags on the plaza

And I fall in on myself once more and rush to the phone

To call my doctor saying, "See? It didn't work!"

They held their electrodes to my head and made my brain twitch

Oh what I should have said was "No. Not now. Not ever. Not me."
But I kindly shuffled my implosion into position

And let them do their work and charge me exorbitant fees.

Ruined. Taken down. How much further down to the bottom?

Three...two...one...and the detonation begins.

The window high over the plaza breaks and becomes a rush

Of brick and concrete and wood and the dust rises

And I am trapped beneath it all.

Carolyn

Hi Claudia,

You may want to submit your poetry to the poetry editor of New York City Voices, the Consumer Mental Health Advocacy Journal.  Google "New York City Voices" and consumer advocacy journal as I've forgotten their website.  You will be able to e-mail the poetry editor your work for consideration.

Again I hope you feel there is hope.

Regards,

Christina