I howled along with the demons
the halls echoed with the sound,
my room echoed with the sound,
my whole being was filled with it.
Yet, there I lay, howling.
They would strap me down, said it had to be
to prevent me from hurting myself,
from hurting others,
from hurting them,
so I lay there, unmoving.
At times I could walk, I could stand,
but I could never go outside
I could never open the locked doors,
I could never see the sky,
so there I sat, rocking.
Again, strapped down, electrodes attached
in an attempt to make me better
an attempt to stop the demons
an attempt to make me normal
so I lay there, jerking.
At long last, the day finally came
they said I could really go home
I could cross the threshold
I could open the door
so there I stood, trembling.
The halls still echo with ghosts of those howls,
with memories of straps,
with barred windows,
with an overturned chair by a wall,
with the sting of electrical current
but this time I can leave, breathing.
Over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, for Artistic Inspirations with Margaret – Willard Asylum, we were presented with some photos and some facts about an abandoned Psychiatric Institution and asked to write a poem in first person inspired by this. This is my – for once not rhyming – attempt. Hope you enjoyed the ghosts.