Sunday, March 16, 2014

Sensibly exposing the abuse

Remembering a time

I couldn’t talk about

How psychiatry had harmed me,

Lest someone think that I was ill,

Because I was accusing ‘health providers’,

Of abusing me.

So my mind, in confusion, and overwhelming

Grief at their outrageous denial, took a parallel path

And said some things

That were symbolic of what

Had happened to me,

Hoping that would be understood better.

But those things weren’t. Anything I said,

Got me put in the hands of my abusers.

It did take longer to be abducted, though,

When I didn’t mention psychiatry,

People didn’t immediately assume I was psychiatry’s lab-human

And needed to be returned to their laboratory.

I knew the sort of person I shouldn’t talk to, by then,

But understanding was still absent then, in pretty much everyone,

To my courtroom truths, as well as my poetic truths.

All paths to exposing the abuse were

Blocked into further threats to me,

That eventually got carried out.

That kind of pressure, that kind of denial,

It’s too much to handle and still be sensible.

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