Here she is 91 going on 92 next month, she wants to die but they won’t fucking let hermedicalisation to the argonal.
How did it ever get to this-if she lost her mind at least she wouldn’t know what was going on-being treated like a lump of meat is not for the faint or old hearted. That’s all she is-really-a tmesis, serving out her time to keep people in jobs-this could be for another 10 years-it’s all numbers she thought-life is a number she’s a number an inconsequential 1.
She was one of 10 and 6 dead.
The life she had was a callous one never quite sure of her footing.
She was a shift shaker appeasing to the call of the piper-her first step at 2 meant life was in your own hands.
A creatoreen of a child with dark hair and grey blue eyes thin cheeks fat hands and a meek slap me I’m bold smile-I’m bold.
So her face was slapped, regularly.
How she came to be in this God forsaken place she’ll never know-many a talk was had with her 3 children-let me go-don’t let me persevere in this hell-when my time comes please take control don’t let the state take over- sweet mother of Jesus-now look at me-a roll over-wiped down-fingered-breast caressed phantom by those in charge.
This place was a customised hell disguised as heaven.
Her mother told her how she was-and wasn’t when she was a small girl-how true any of it was out of that bitter mouth she didn’t know.
She knew certain things-she knew to shut up and put up-she knew her brothers liked sneaking their fingers inside her knickers-and one tried to put his penis in but it wouldn’t go-she knew never ever to cry.
PLEASE LET ME GO
The entrance the surroundings the people, the dining room, music playing from afar-more laughter- the others focused stare on knitting and card playing-staff smiling and greeting her children with mouths wide like curloics-the net spread ready to catch their ignorance.
Your mother will love it here-
Then Mercy showed up.