Hearts beating
She knows the meaning..
Sick
Fear
Excitement..
Kids screaming
Staff running..
Tackle child
Like football
Watch
Her
Fall
Hands over mouth..
Stifle her screams..
Not allowed to feel
In this institution..
She is an
insignificant girl..
Just an intrusion..
Must control her body
Mind
And soul..
Don’t feel
Don’t think..
DON’T say a word..
You are here
to be warehoused..
Not heard.
CIU is where she goes..
Stripped of her cloths..
Naked body
Naked heart
Naked soul
Thrown on the floor..
Rug burns on her
face..
She doesn’t care..
She is use to this
place..
She stares at the
blood red floor.
She is not part of this
world anymore.
She is a
disposable girl
Behind locked doors.
She falls
slowly
Into her
mind..
She whispers
I loved you..
For the very last time..
No one is there to hear
what was
said..
No one is to
witness
Her hearts final
death..
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
Love from India - Joel -
Your writing twists the heart and touches the soul. Very powerful and so sad
Chrissie
William
Jack
tony:)