Yiska feels
the knife blade
with fingers
blunt as hell
she mutters
and puts it
down again
by the plate
butter knife
I tell her
sitting down
beside her
for our tea
in the ward
(the locked ward)
Ted serving
lovely nurse
soft giant
feeling low?
Yiska nods
and picks up
a sandwich
and nibbles
I recall
the last time
that she sliced
her thin wrist
the right way
in the bog
blood spurted
the window
and walls
as she turned
but so far
she hadn't
tried to hang
her sad self
as I had
(and failed it)
speak later?
I ask her
others eat
around us
dark silence
depressives
suicides
(the failed ones)
hard drinkers
drying out
after tea
we walk off
together
hand in hand
can I help?
I ask her
I need out
of this hole
she whispers
but she knows
as I do
you can't walk
through locked doors
of the ward
I kiss her
she hugs me
two lost souls
in one vast
surging sea.