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Sanitarium
March 19, 2013
Every time I pull
the ropes get tighter around my wrists.
The burning pain leaves its mark
and the scars form,
the sun shines and burns my skin.
However, in the light,
the rope burns away
and is replaced with sweltering heat.
In the night, the rope freezes into an icy cuff
and my blood freezes to the core,
masking all emotions and thought,
preventing me from making any decisions.
Then a voice whispers in my ear,
“Schizophrenic...”
© Jeanette M., Phoenix, AZ
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