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Mental Illness

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Ripe red tomatoes
and other delights
I crinkle my nose
and absorb the sights
so many vibrant colors
means potential bites.

But the whitest of fences
guarding the group
piles of pumpkins
with vines that loop.

Red and green peppers
tempt me with stares
while plump purple eggplant
give me defensive glares.

The sting of the sun
catches my eye
as it creeps from behind
the red, velvet sky.
It shines on my skin
so damaged and bare
twisting and weaving
through my scruffy, dirty hair.

My drooping, grey eyelids
blink once, or twice,
my thin grumbling stomach
presents its solemn advise.

The daisies are sweet
the tulips, quite nice
but nothing compares
to the breathtaking sights
of ripe red tomatoes
and other delights.

I look up at the woman.
“Miss, I beg your pardon?”
A roll of the eyes
“You heard what I said
go anywhere you’d like
just stay out of the
garden.”





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