The cry of traffic
The hustle of the doctors
The whine of voices
The cold, hard plastic of the chair
They whisper like I'm not here
"Omg, it's her!"
They back up, as if I'm dangerous
And I stare
They tell me in cheerful voices
"This is temporary"
"We'll fix you"
They look at me; as if I'm broken.
I'm ushered into a room
Full of flowers and puppy drawings on the walls.
I'm 16.
But treated like I'm 5.
They lead me into another room, again
Her heels clicking on the tiles
Her soft, soothing voice rattles off.
"Come on, sweetie, we'll start soon."
I'm sat on another chair
A metal one this time.
"See you soon, sweetie!"
I don't know her.
The lights flash on
I'm instructed to lay down, like a puppy following constant orders.
A man behind glass opens his mouth
And words come out.
Suddenly the lights go out
And the machine around me starts whirring.
The bed starts moving, my eyes close.
My brain stirs.
He grabs me, shoves me in his car
"Do it! Do it, you piece of shit!" he barks
Sirens are approaching, wailing
He throws me out
My heartbeat races, back in the whirring bed.
I sit up
My eyes fly open
And I scream.
A/N
If only minds were straight roads.
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𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐞𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥
Poetrypoems from within. ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆ Note: my poem styles vary a lot, so some may rhyme and others no. Feel free to skip those you don't like. The poems aren't sequels to each other. There might be spoken word and such. Some poems a...