I just don’t want to call the CAT team

I can’t apply what I learnt as a child

As a way to help another out of suicide.

I cannot cry those tears of desperation

To show my love, that prevented my mother

From taking her life. But I can listen

Like I did back then, to the things,

That psychiatrists judge and diagnose.

I can give enough understanding that may mean

That suicidal feelings can be expressed

Without the need for the actual action of harm

Happening to the self, perhaps, yes perhaps…

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I hear myself scream as I am hauled in socks

Across the road, I cry for help, I am lost,

When that is the policy and procedure

To help someone through suicidal ideation

And unusual states of consciousness.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

My mother feared that enough to know,

Never to see a mental health professional.

I know it enough from my own experience,

To flee when it is mentioned as prevention.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I am looking for something else,

Not what I did as a child for my mother,

But something else, because I’m an adult,

Who knows policy and procedure, but,

Wants to prevent that from happening

As well as the potential suicide…

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

What is and isn’t responsible I feel is warped

In our society, to the point where

Aversion therapy is the legal way

And gentler methods are discarded alternatives.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.

I don’t want a person that’s hurting to become

Subjected to imprisonment and forced drugging,

Asked about their symptoms and not

Considered as a person with individuality.

I just don’t want to call the CAT team.