For the first time
I am very much aware of my wrists;
their frailness, vulnerability terrifies.
I shove them under my body as
I lay on the bed.
They seem to grow,
they thicken and puff,
Forcing my body to rise
above the bed.
I feel I am floating,
Forced up beyond my control.
I cry silently.
Wordlessly.
I battle.
Suddenly
a new image,
a powerful image
fills my mind.
I lie relaxed in the tub,
where I am found,
and he reads the note,
“Thank you,
I am happy.”
Sound outside my door awakes me.
I rise.
I continue the struggle,
the fight against
this happiness. | 
When Poe ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
Linear Mode
