I am certain now that I am me and he and she
So I try to hide hoping you will not notice but
They say things                           They do things
To make you think              That make you ask
That he is crazy                      Is she really mad?
That they are not                    Then they are too
  But he is she too                             And they say
So when I take the                   I should take the
Pills, so they and he and she will all go away,
I will just be me again and you will not be as

Frightened of us.

A slow death, in eons of unremembered moments,
Like a dark star, she collapses into herself every day,
Fragments of her past memories intrude sometimes,
Incomprehensible now, like they are all in Russian.

This existence she hates more than life itself,
Flowing like an unending river, towards a sea,
Days of sleep, interrupted by family strangers,
Wearing her precious necklace and others’ clothes.

At times I am "Who?", until her son is introduced,
Which produces a "Happy to see you" smile, and
Complaints that no one ever comes to visit now,
She is living in a nightmare of empty spaces.

Her now ungraspable tranquillity, her living hell,
Punished for imagined sin, she now doubts God,
But wants to go home to Him, to ask "Why?”.
She believed the childhood promise of heaven.