Wednesday, April 1, 2015


The whitecoats say
I am deficient
in sunshine
and iron,
the things
that brighten
and strengthen
from within.

If they only knew
all the ways
I am deficient.

My heart
has withered
into a raisin
in my chest.

There is no love,
no happiness,
no abstract feeling

Just a sad memory
of what was.