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forestfaith Nov 2018
Hopes and dreams.
Shunned before my eyes.
Put out by cold fingers.
Lost in time.
White walls, repeated calls, weeping white walls stared straight back at me.
And loneliness was all I see.
How one took in biscuits and cups of tea for acquaintances.
And tears told bedtime stories to lonely ones.
And if time permits, their families would come and take a look.
Only to meet another tear.

But, maybe hopes and dreams still survived, and tears are not the end of bedtime stories.
To cause urgency and to cause me to love.
And if time permits, maybe one can be set free.
Behind those dull walls lay lives to be changed and eyes to be opened.
Only if time permits.  
Maybe this place isn’t so hopeless after all.
:) hope you all have a blessed week ahead!
Remember to pray and to spend time with God whenever you can :)
Nomkhumbulwa Oct 2018
This title could have been different,
Damaged by a doctor came to mind,
But in the end and without your consent
I chose your name, not to be unkind.

It needs to be there loud and clear,
For all the damage you left me with,
You will probably never know or care,
For the damage you left me with.

The outburst of rage right in my face,
In a hospital of all places,
Labelling me a manipulative liar,
A cruel, attention seeking waste of space

I am aware now that you were sick,
And for that I do not hold against you,
But what you did to me has grown and grown,
It has grown to the point where I hate you.

For now I dont know who I am,
I question my memories, my very existence,
You broke my confidentiality,
Spoke to my abusers without my consent.

I have had similar done before,
And yes from the same profession;
But that was out of sheer ignorance,
And the persuasive ways of the Exclusive Brethren.

He was a GP and I complained,
I received an apology, and I have now accepted,
I dont hold any grudges against him now,
I know how the Brethren can be very deceptive.

But you are more than a mere GP
You are supposed to be an expert,
An expert in Psychiatry
So your views remain - people tend to trust experts.

The thing is now I distrust myself,
You took away my sense of self,
You took away my identity,
You took away at this point - my entire family.

I do not blame you for all my issues,
Abuse from narcissists is very deceptive,
But by playing into the hands of my abusers,
You have taken away every desire I had to live.

I knew not that you were ill back then,
I left the country in a hurry,
I ran away from the pain and confusion you caused,
I ran away back to my  only "trusted" family.

The scar you left me with is still open and raw,
And now I have yet another,
In fact as time passes I have more and more,
The scar first inflicted by my mother.

Now the wound is inches deep,
And of course there are more,
There are the ones I have to create myself,
To take away the pain, and everything else.

The scar you left will never fade,
Now I firmly believe the words you spat,
In that chair right into my face,
On the hospital bed I sat.

I believe im evil and cruel,
I believe that for everything I am to blame,
I believe I deserved everything I got,
And what i'll never forget - is your name.

Now I question almost everything,
I dont know who I am,
I certainly do not trust anymore,
I dont know how  can...

Did the assault really happen?
I ask myself every day,
Because of the words you put in my head,
They are there to stay.

Your conclusions on me reached ST Helena,
So I was viewed with suspicion from many,
By those who were supposed to help me,
Not just from my family.

Although you have taken them too,
For yes, dont worry they now believe you,
They were what I had left,
Apart from the abusive few.

Your views fuelled my peoples attitude,
To ****** assault towards women,
It existed already of course,
But you gave them more reason to blame women.

I am completely alienated,
I have nobody and nothing left,
You took away my sanity,
And he...took away the rest.

I came close with the help of **** Crisis,
To taking this to court,
But of course these things are mishandled,
He was told but a free man until court.

He hung himself, thats what he did,
To avoid facing the shame, blame and hate,
The exact same as what us women face,
For him - with death its too late.

My people take this somewhat differently,
As what other British people might do,
They see this as yet another reason,
To say its something he didnt do.

This adds yet another dimension
To what you left me with,
How on earth am I supposed to know.
If it was real, what he left me with.

I dont trust myself, I trust no one else,
Due to that experience with you,
I have such a deep seated hatred for myself,
I now speak to only very few.

You took away even my Nationality,
For I am no longer Saint or even British,
I have seen enough in South Africa,
I have realised that I am no longer British.

For what you have done is make me feel safe
In somewhere burdened heavily with rapists ,
And for that very reason,
There are many people I can associate with.

A place of **** and ******
Is now my safe haven,
From St Helena to South Africa,
Who would ever have known.

There I am able to trust,
But here - no never again,
You have left me with such a deep wound,
When im here I just feel insane.

Now the tears fall again,
As I write this stupidly long rhyme,
But I cannot keep it inside,
Its all building up over time.

Because of you im not trusted either,
By anyone in the medical service,
Im treated with suspicion,
In fact im not treated at all by the service.

So I suffer alone with pain and distress,
Not knowing whats true and what isnt,
Not wanting to be seen by anyone,
Feeling like a total delinquent.  

You see what im trying to say,
Is that you damaged me MORE THAN A ******,
You misused your powers,
You abused my trust.

I wish I could get you out of my mind,
Because now all I can do is hurt more,
Just keep hurting myself,
To take away what I cannot ignore.

I could write so much more but wont,
I will just say one thing more..
I feel so sorry for Glasgow,
Glasgow deserves so much more.  

You could work here no longer,
And so that should be,
But does Glasgow not have enough problems?
Why now should these people suffer like me?????

........by Nomkhumbulwa.
One of the causes of many of my issues......thats all I can say.  Sorry.
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
the boarded up windows of the hospital
they were making renovations
et moi, et moi, et moi
wanting to see the sky
the night before
a police officer with kind eyes
asking if everything was alright
in the back of an ambulance
having just swallowed the charcoal
et moi, et moi, et moi
nodding a yes
wanting to see the sky
it would be a year till I saw it
sitting in the passenger seat of your car,
Jacques Dutronc playing
et moi, et moi, et moi
wildly singing
only by chance
when the song changed
looking up to see
a yellow sun setting
It was like camp
But I spent the first night
On a thin plastic mattress with ****** sheets freezing
Instead of encircling a campfire
Singing cowboy songs of the West
And little dogs

My first activity was not making a bow and arrow or a target but instead I was
sitting after breakfast
on a concrete bench
in the Sun
Trying to fill myself with that allusive happiness.
That was my plan.

On the next occasion in the open
I did not get a compass
nor a map
but I sat with a table of girls
And spoke up without being asked
They started to show off their pale pinkish arms
I was at the cutters’ table
Smoker’s edition
Layers upon layers of
Rippling Scar tissue
at the elbows in particular
It is thick.
Bleeding and healing
To be sliced open again
For crusting over.
They were cheerful
Despite hallucinations and panic attacks,
Lost children or tomorrow
Scuttling along a murky seabed that did not want them but
Here’s a cigarette

I did not make a sundial or find my canoe
Or make shoes out of leaves
but let the morning sun stick around
while the smoke issuing from their chatty mouths pinched my nose
I would take their smoking breaks with them.
I claimed two for myself and once lit,
slyly handed them over
As I listened to the chatter and laughed
I feel a faint yellow heat
From up over there.

We didn’t at first hover around each other
Talking about nothing like high school
Girls with braces and dorky pajamas
Or bend over from the top bunk to say
one more thing before lights out
At first I never added more than a informed observation about lipgloss or
a roll over the eyes over the next dumbbell talking about nothing that existed
But I was tolerated
And as their numbers diminished
only to be refreshed again
my comfort grew
I made “friends”
We laughed and co-conspired
Over pills, soda and what’s that on your tray?

There were movies on the tv
But no westerns
With horses trekking through the tall grasses
Nor
Smoke arising in the distance
Imitating a life that we were imitating as well
Yes we were!
Just a slightly different tale about
Endless treks and wandering

On the weekends
The rules relaxed and the counselors,
Had there been any,
Would have been preoccupied with private intrigues and how to make pineapple cocktails
And we, left to our own devises,
Would saunter in and around each other
Braiding hair and reading magazines.

There was a telephone.

When it was time to get into the car to go back home by way of the freeway
I didn’t have a hat that I had painted myself with only three colors
Nor feathers
or a blue ribbon for starting fires
We all said our good-byes
Even the mean one called me by my name
And we shot off like the explosive plumes of fireworks
into a dimming sky.
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
yes
here we are again
walls, white
cotton sheets
teal socks with the tread

we share small talk
i ask about home
things are the same there

i tell you about my bedmate
she thinks she's satan
it's all up from here

when you leave
i sit down to dinner
a jail meal

it drips from the mute's lips
who sits staring
at the table diagonal from me

she is afraid of dogs
i, a dog
bite a dry piece of bread
and cough

in this lowland we halt and look up to the sun
but see only a black sky

and when you ask
are you getting better
the response
yes

is for you
DT Sep 2018
Words carved on the bedroom desk in a mental hospital

- My path is oblivious
- You are not alone anymore
- I still have my blade
- Dont cry
- My ex made me insane
- Some can't be saved
- I need to talk to Austin! My anxiety is acting up!
- I insert heart *****
- Better off dead
- Stay Strong
- I'm ******
- We're even, 911
- Bella insert heart
- I'm on a rollercoaster that only goes up
- I choose death
- Smile, you're beautiful
- I'll never tell
- God will show you the path
- **** those who said they'd always be here for me!
- Dear people, don't do this *******
- Get me out of here, I feel trapped
- Life's complicated
- **** this system!
- Why can't she love me like she used to? I insert heart Anaquin
- God is heal
- Him insert heart
- Her insert heart
-  You don't need someone else to make you happy
- It gets better
- We're not even
- **** your faith
- Sometimes I feel like no one understands
- I'm gay
- Nero Michelle Granillo + Mario Jonathan Larios 12•06•13
- I'm scared
- Let it be 11-23-13
- Help me get out
- You're pretty
- Eat me out
- I like your face
- Tired
- My taste in music is your face
- I've been here 2 weeks
- I want out
- Stay strong
- I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain


At the time these words comforted me and brought me closer to something. I felt closer to peace the more I wrote. I'll never know the people who wrote these things or why I wrote them down nearly three years ago and decided to write about it publicly now but I do know who carved the last one. Stay strong, time will give you peace.
Adrian Sep 2018
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Sir murmurs feverish death
spells,
                   Bewitched hysteria enchanted elven
           ears,
                   Violin strings of stuttering velvet
echo,
                         vacuity beguile cracked
telescopes,
                             Sir’s feigned ruby lips
lament.
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
  ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Draperies comb the purple
hare,
Riveted coats sneeze in the
pallor,
                            Stabilizing the drunken
absences,
Late violets exhale in
tedium.
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
    ⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝
      .Sir views tree sagging in dirt
coffins,
                     In fabricated
tranquility,
                With pleasant booming
hums.
     ⇜⇝⇜⇝
     ⇜⇝⇜⇝
.Sirs deteriorating dense
chasms,
                    Encounter convenient
disorientation.
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜
⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜⇝⇜
.Spotted desolate greenery a hafted ax of
demise.
⇜⇝⇜⇝
An ad in the LA Times
Pictured a jewelry store in Beverly Hills
Somewhere off Wilshire
A golden band modeled after an Egyptian original
Mother wanted it and so we went
We sat on tuffets of crushed velvet and
She bought it
replacing her wedding band
Which I never did find.
It was pretty but
what other significance this meant
regarding her husband she did not tell

She was struck walking on an off-ramp
on the 10.
Heading east?
How did she get there?
I asked her in the hospital
On the gurney she shook her head
And said she didn’t know.
That’s Alzheimer’s for you.
The ring is gone.

Father took his off well before she passed
and left it on the top of his dresser.
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