Dr. Penelopy Waters and sodium penthonal find a voice for patient 27

Dr. Penelopy Waters and sodium penthonal find a voice for patient 27

A Poem by Coxyloxy
"

Sometimes even the clinical setting and search for diagnosis and treatment cannot quench spark of human compassion.

"

She will surmise that words from others spoken carelessly killed 27's every reason to speak,

that not all conversations overheard are intended to be heard in the first place

but when they are--however inadvertently-- sometimes trigger the kind of cancer

that only psychologists--and not oncologists--have a prayer of treating.

Being half-sister to hoighty-toighty Temperance--ten years her senior, and arriving forthwith

unannounced save her father’s post (its unseemly revelations having been digested scarcely a week)

had been mortifying…and awkward… under the stare of beautiful eyes in which no pity lived.

 

A tender heart silhouetted by a single desire-- to be loved by someone-- poured itself out

under the eaves of atrium windows, in the trough of the hounds, with hands twice calloused;

determination ripping opulent silk inside a lightless cocoon which held her between two worlds.

From her solace; a solitary respite found only by brave souls willing to climb tall sycamores

she could sway with dreams of tomorrows breeze and imagine a fragrance of being wanted;

proving silently, that proximity to reality is conceptually meaningless for dreamers.

 

But malignancy, rang out-- leaving both innocence, and dreams spiritless and silent.

Through the leaves, words reached the most tender spot.


“Imagine myself you say-- as the spawn-- of a repulsive little trollop-- from the rail-yards?

That girl...Molly...is an accident that full well should have been stricken by God in the womb

My fathers blood may run in her veins, but I will forever loathe her because of

the w***e blood which is intermingled with it--and because she's beautiful."

 

At Thirteen years and six months,  27 sought and found a place inside her mind--

Walked in--


...and slammed the door.




 


© 2014 Coxyloxy


Author's Note

Coxyloxy
I don't write for approval. I write because I write.

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Added on October 18, 2014
Last Updated on November 15, 2014

Author

Coxyloxy
Coxyloxy

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A Poem by Coxyloxy


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A Poem by Coxyloxy