i write for those whose minds are gone

 

i write for her screams

cries for help ignored

confusion/never knowing why she suffers

brain matter explodes, forgets the earth between her toes, the sky above her head

she collapses

where is her mind now?

 

i speak to a crazy person

 

i write

because at eight years old too scared to speak to strangers

tongue ties in convoluted knots

too frightened to raise her hand in class

ears too dumb to understand her teachers

 

i write

because anxiety means fear

her heart bursts through confines of her chest

swallow her puke before an exam or presentation

heart quakes, body shakes, stomach twists like a double helix

 

at 12 years old/so intimate with self-hate and death

cut cut cut

 

i write for the children who carve their pain into existence

 

wrists drip red

wow who knew physical pain hurts so good?

razor blades friendlier than double-edged words

brain matter splatters onto virgin carpet

she longs for gun shots, end her performance (now)

she struggles/loses control as she loses herself (here)

she stands on this stage before you, her last performance

 

i write for those who’ve lost their minds

IF SHE LOST HER MIND IT IS DUE TO YOU.

family/community/society all for and due to YOU

 

at 16 years old she sees therapists/psychiatrists/questions

why do i feel this way she asks

some people have less serotonin and dopamine receptors than others dr. zhang responds

he misdiagnoses her with major depressive disorder/she takes higher and higher doses

 

no response

 

mania

at 16 years old she stumbles through her performances

she carries the burden of a 4.0 average

runs for cross country and track

president of the environmental club and muslim club

plants trees along the san joaquin river over the weekend

spends free time with friends

mind races with worries too fast to rest/no need for breaks you see?

gogogo

next task/where now?

 

i write for those whose minds aren’t all here

 

she carves LIFE SUCKS into the soil of her legs

paints long lines, long beautiful lines into the bark of her arms

like writhing, convulsing roses growing in virgin snow

i the someone who has lost their mind

 

at 20 years old she finds another psychiatrist/she discovers she has bipolar personality disorder and post traumatic stress disorder

life starts to fall into place

 

i write now

i the crazy person/i the character/i was (am) her

collapse on virgin snow

i rock/eyes vibrating in agony

i cry for help/carving I DESERVE TO LIVE into tree barks where bird faint/accept i may never understand why       

i feel

            dead

as rain drops here. now