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Literature Text
Barbara
She touches my hair
With horribly open eyes
Stares into mine
And sees herself.
“It’s beautiful”
“It’s beautiful”
and I recoil from her hands
afraid that I’ll see my own
stroking my shoulder blades.
She touches my hair
With horribly open eyes
Stares into mine
And sees herself.
“It’s beautiful”
“It’s beautiful”
and I recoil from her hands
afraid that I’ll see my own
stroking my shoulder blades.
Barbara was one of the other patients in the mental health ward.
She used to come up to me and stroke my hair.
At first I was afraid of her touching me,
and then I realised that part of me is just like her.
She used to come up to me and stroke my hair.
At first I was afraid of her touching me,
and then I realised that part of me is just like her.
© 2009 - 2024 Rosary0fSighs
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