This is a poem about my difficulty writing in the hospital.
|What do you write when
All that abounds is illness -
When all and everything about you
Requires the universe's stillness?
I have a bright orange wristband,
A named label stuck onto that
To tell the staff I'm a patient,
To tell them again I'm knocked flat.
My fountain pen is locked up tight
Along with my identity cards,
And all I can think to do still
Is to drag myself a few more yards.
In the hospital again, again,
Wanting to be a psychiatrist
Never knowing if I'll even survive -
Not even knowing the gist.
Don't know what to write
Here in the psych ward.
Been here for a week
Freefalling with no ripcord.
ECT tomorrow, Wednesday, Friday
Hope it helps with this depression.
Wish I could see Dr. Van Dyk
Right now, we need to have a session.
Judo, school, life passing me by -
Moments I can never make up.
Last week I missed Communion again,
Breaking the bread, drinking the cup.
People come and people go,
People pass me by.
I could be great someday,
But even the thought makes me cry.