Never have a Nervous Breakdown.

I have been rough handled,
jack boots upon my heart
pulverising that bloody meat
into unpalatable
pulp.

Wounded already
spilling onto the sidewalk,
into cracks
and crevices,
disappearing
down
the
drainpipe,
why  couldn’t
you  have just
fed me back
to myself instead
of spreading me
like a stain?

cupped precious juices
in your palms?

I was slipping away
and you were
looking the
other way.

I have been manhandled,
blunt instruments have
gavelled my mind
into numb submission,
chemical incarceration
constrained all cogency

bleary, weary, teary,
without sanctuary,
trapped inside
a tourretic
stutter,
a mental maze
that ended at
the beginning
and began
at the
ending

Hell.

Why didn’t you
hear me
hold  me
see me
love me?

Instead,
you
rescued
me
with the stink
of  sanctimony
on your
breath,
strings
like sticky
webs
tethered
your
gifts
to my
ankle

I drag them still.

A vision quest
at Spirits behest,
the long dark night
of the soul
stretched before me
and I was afraid.
You could have held my hand
instead of telling me
to get my
act together.

preaching,
teaching,
finger waggers

blind fumbling fools
absent of all understanding,

I am a sovereign being
I am sacred

I am not pathology, morphology, psychology, mythology, physiognomy,

(you should have kept your wacky phrenology to yourself)

not barmy
not broken
not fucked up
not fixable

not yours.

Dedicated to all the ‘helpers’. Thanks so much.