I gave her
latitude,
took the higher
road.
Appeasement
never works.
She drank all
my whiskey
and stole my
parakeet.
The Romans bathed
naked in the
Tiber, and she
wins wars with
a smile.
Never mind the
casualties.

It's One a.m. in the psych ward.
Let's just call it 4 North.
On the table that I'm writing at is a plant,
it looks to be a member of the cactus family.
Three nurses sit behind a glass booth
and watch me with curiosity.
One of them looks to be a member of the
cactus family—or is it cacti?
Either way, I don't want her close to me.
Just now, one of the cacti-looking nurses says,
"What are you writing? "
I say, "My escape plan," without looking up.
She says,
"Very interesting."
That's one thing I've noticed in the
psych ward, everything is very interesting.
Just once, I wish they would say,
"That is the most boring load of
**** I've ever heard."
Then, maybe I'd be less inclined
to think they resemble members of the plant life.

One breath, one minute,
one smile, led to many
moments of heartache.

Breathe they say,
yet life's choking me.

Wait they say,
yet life's running and
I have only one chance
to catch up.

Be happy they say,
yet depression doesn't ask
for an invitation.

I was told whatever I do
will come back to me ten fold.

Yet it seems what everyone else
does is folding in on me because
I breathed, I waited, and
I smiled.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton