A Cluttered Shattered Mind

I imagine the windows of her brain;
stained glass, crayon colored panes.
Growing up; delicate pink, candy innocent,
then ruby red rose romance;
bloody crimson with childbirth.

For many years, a life shared.
To nurture, help, care for a beloved family.
We fracture, tattoo, test and weather.
Question, fight, love and admire.
Then varnish, stain and seal what remains.

The doors in a cluttered, shattered mind
exist for protection, hopefully a holy kind.
This heinous disorder opens cloistered space,
fragile pieces fall apart, blowing wildly.
Confusion scattered in the wind.

Memories collide, what fits where,
hats on shoes, multicolored cobwebs,
a projection of thoughts run berserk.
A kaleidoscope of life can not rest.
Photos spill; leaves caught in a storm, lost forever.

This is a lady. Her mouth spoke with pearls.
But this brain is a sailor with dirty slander.
Imagine video priest and neighbor nights.
Her hazel eyes blaze with truth and lost trust.
Do not comfort. Her frail fists crave a fight.

When her mind fills to a point of capacity,
she seeks a protective shell and retreats.
Cushioned womb, pot of tea, quiet library
bar the door, rest earned, hang a "Closed" sign.


By Kathie Stehr
edited November 17, 2010