Through watery eyes, I gaze
Upon a music box not to dance again.
Now a BlackSwan beyond repair,
I know not where, neither when
Such damage could accumulate,
Uncertain even instigate.
Simply that the time has passed, and far too late
For any chance to mend,
She lies broken ‘pon the floor,
No longer there to spin or sing.
Am I to blame? It’s hard to tell, Neuron mirroring.
Both with regrets and torn heart strings,
Musical no more.
To my (no-longer) G.P: (Whom I dub ‘Snowbird’ for various reasons), one of the best humans I never got to meet..
Miles above any other of the potentially more than 100 GPs/ shrinks etc that I’ve met, not only in intellect and perception, but a willingness to pay attention, and think outside the box, as well as dedication and bed-side manner. Perhaps my sole regret in being forced to leave my previous town by violent fuckwit abusers is having to do without her care, and never having been given the chance met her ‘in person’.
I wanted to send thankyou flowers to her and the staff, but thought that might be crossing the line, but probably more realistically because it would have cost me about $300, and unfortunately escaping my hell left me completely broke. So, a poem is sadly it.
To J._._S , My warmest thanks.
Flown to southern lands,
Settles down with healing hands.
Perched high above within her tree,
My priveledge once to see.
“Where is my prescription?
Doctor, doctor please listen.
My brain is scattered,
You can be Alice…
I’ll be the Mad Hatter.
I’m nuts, baby, I’m mad,
The craziest friend that you’ve ever had.
You think I’m psycho, you think I’m gone,
Tell the psychiatrist something is wrong.
Over the bend, entirely bonkers,
You like me best when I’m off my rocker.
Tell you a secret, I’m not alarmed,
So what if I’m crazy? The best people are.”
-from the song ‘Mad Hatter’ by Melanie Martinez.