Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Peninsula Village Poem

I just recently came across this poem that I wrote, a month and a half after being out of Peninsula Village.

Deep, Deep in Depression
I sit in the dark corner
Surrounded by Pitch Black.
The tears sting my bruised face
I scream at the top of my lungs
Scream as loud as I can, yet it delivers no effect.
It's their way of torturing me,
To place me in seclusion
The thoughts are devouring me.
The walls are closing in on me
Creeping up on me ever so slowly.
I get up and bang the door
Screaming at staff, my arch enemies.
All I get is a nasty look, a mutter under their breath
Breath of extreme coldness.
Fighting for what I have left as far as a life goes,
The door flys open
In comes a team of strong, malicious men and women.
Each grabbing me in my helpless, trapped state.
A few kicks at the back of my bruised legs,
A few pushes on my beaten back,
And then smack, goes my chin on the cold, hard blue floor
They have taken me down, pinned me to the ground.
My lungs feel as if they are going to collapse,
with some heavy man sitting on my back.
My arms and legs fight for circulation in my drugged up veins.
They seem to get a adrenaline rush with my takedowns,
My name, has become infamous through the charts and restraint packets.
Once again, here comes the nurse,
Lingering over me with another injection.
1,2,3 and a stick in my ass
I can feel the Thorazine running into my system.
Here comes the doctor now, cracking stupid jokes.
Seems I see the back of this girl more than the front.
I still try to fight my way out,
I tell them I cant breathe,
The nausea rises, I think its gonna come up.
They could care less
Applying more pressure, and making me lay in my own vomit.
I wish I could just die.
I try to scream, not that anyone would rescue me,
They smash my face to the ground, hold my head in my puddle of biles, tears, and mucuses.
Awhile later, I am stripped of my clothing, by flipping me around, side to side.
Dressing me in blood stained hospital gowns.
Is it over yet?
I should know better.
I hear the clanking of metal pieces on the body net, and know my fights been lost.
They lift me up, facedown, carry me to the bed, as I kick, scream, but it does no good.
Now I am thrown onto the bed, flipped over, and tied down in a ferocious manner.
The bright light is blinding, I squint my little beady, tearful, and panic stricken eyes.
I try to escape, but it's impossible.
The toxic chemicals are now in my system, and I fall asleep.
Only to be awoken, by staff kicking my bed.
After all, this is not naptime, this is punishment.
I struggle to keep awake,
And much to my relief, hours later, I am set free.
Only to repeat itself over and over.
My life seemed deemed to be over.