|
Asylum
by Sam Roberts
Surrender yourself, your torn, ruptured complexion
And dig a hole into a white, straight sheet
With bars to your left that hide a struggle
And an asylum that is almost what it would seem
Some better than others, you the same.
With psychiatrists analysing the way you feed yourself
Spit it, full of love into your hand
And close your eyes, dream but dont sleep
Because you cant until early afternoon
Until youve had your shock treatment
Succumb slowly, into a washing machine of blood
Tumble around and find your feet
so bend over, now they inject you, now fat and forthcoming
Into your buttocks, blue and sore.
A needle to fascinate
The swirls and insanity that you see on the other side.
It was pretty, and pink, and a full known reality
That you were crazy, or were you?
05/22/2003 Posted on 05/22/2003
Copyright © 2024 Sam Roberts
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Sarah Brookes on 05/22/03 at 02:25 PM Oooh, raw and very vivid. A bite back at the end, a poem to make you think. Great job, I think that will be ringing in my ears for a while. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 05/23/03 at 02:50 PM YEOWZA! Riveting piece of literature from start to finish...and boy what a finish! Although not for the subject (victim) of the poem. |
| Posted by Alex Smyth on 06/16/03 at 11:29 PM Makes me think of The Catcher in the Rye, vivid and slightly disconcerting in its (un)reality! |
|
