she’s high risk, forcibly sedated,
confined in-line with statistical analysis,
she’s out of the ordinary, a perception terrorist
challenging the obvious with her 9 dimensional awareness,
she doesn’t conform or align with ‘the norm’
this is when the problems were born
there’s no longer a beauty in her eye
it’s died, she’s been dehumanised,
indefinitely institutionalised,
a slow subtraction of her persona has turned her into a stranger
she’s changed, patient ‘3788’, confined to a cell block,
prescribed acute electroshock,
I’m no longer her brother,
she’s no longer the mother I knew,
it’s all “too little, too late”
her children now belong to the state,
bouncing around like yo yo’s in foster care,
to end up in the gutter or “god knows where”
she spends her days counting cracks on the wall,
observed from a distance, offered no assistance
as she suffers in silence, I honour her resistance
but there’s just no point, there’s no way out,
she can cry at the top of her voice,
scream and shout her lungs out
but nobody comes, no one cares
so she just sits and stares
continuing to count the cracks on the wall,
what if she’s really psychic?
what if she can really see the dead?
science will insist it’s all in her head,
prescribing more restraint,
dumbing her down so she can’t retaliate,
patient ‘3788’, we’ll continue to sedate
she won’t be a problem anymore,
we'll keep her confined and lock the door
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