Snow White
Even hospitals look beautiful in the snow –
buildings of crystal and dappled dirt
paths of rose-tinted grit
cold breaths in the sun.
Ambulances, crutches and the Greggs sign –
a comfortable coordination
of hot sausage rolls and pasty, wrapped patients.
Pale staff look up from darkness
as a grey squirrel prances over slushy roads.
Freshness freezes on our faces.
Hope never felt so cold.
No footprints spoil the alabaster lawn
right in the middle lies
one drop of imaginary blood.
Letter After The Trenches
Sanity, 2021
Dear Mental Chief,
When you said I couldn’t be polite, only manipulative
–my lifehoned niceness disappeared down a doubtful well.
When you threatened me with a court order for not taking my medication
–you imprisoned me behind masochism and threw away the key.
When you said I only attempted multiple suicides to avoid bills
–I emptied my empty purse and gave you the change as a tip.
When you dismissed allegations that staff forced me to give blow jobs
–I gagged on my own uncertainty.
When you told me I was going to a hospital for the criminally insane
–you took a pencil sharpener to my pointless innocence.
After you illegally discharged me back to living on the streets
–I went to the betting shop and put money on snow.
After you made a pass at me while I told you my complaints
–I opened my compact, painted myself with guiltflattery.
Yours faithlessly,
Chalice Am Bergris