written by: Tammy Hendrix
I see her madness
undulating like the tides
rising crooked smiles and jagged laughter
falling lost, exhausted with reality.
She places her finger
in the socket, because it is painful
to be boring, weary.
Calling out to a god
who never answers.
scribing mad profanities on the walls
on stones, in the air, on her skin
only to have them make uncomfortable sense
when dawn approaches.
The moon is her lover.
Though she knows not how to keep it.
Hissing when the light blinds her
as she tries to read.
She’s a liar.
Manifesting falsehoods to suit her needs.
And her needs are neurotic.
Rummaging for attention only to tell you to go away.
Her clothes are worn, torn
smelling of patchouli
a bottle she uses sparingly
for the earthy scent makes her feel whole
and she wishes to hold on to that feeling, forever.
Her hair is long and unkempt
Auburn with a gray streak off the left temple
adorned with the leaves she used as a pillow last night
for she sleeps where she wishes.
But gods can she dance!
Down the halls of the sanitarium,
on the streets, in the park, on the train,
there’s no place she won’t celebrate life!
- Beautifully Insane - May 7, 2022
- Sanitarium Blues - February 3, 2022