Knees and the cold kitchen floor
And
crying
And
Begging on knees
And no no not one bit of
hope
All gone
The hope, I mean
And sanity on a
Tight thread
Let dread
Consume me
Ate me from
inside
Out
Out there and maybe then
i could
Be better
So i was taken and
Shut In
a Small room
with a round mirror
Above an itchy bed
and I would look up and See
What i think Was, myself