White Jacket

This jacket ‘round my waist

does not belong to me.

It’s warmth calms the nerves

until I am renewed,

a sign I am not alone,

and that I am someone’s.

Showing that I am loved.

With day-to-day panic

so violent and sudden,

my head screams 

at everything and nothing.

It throbs with persistent pains. 

Lights flicker and shudder

but no one else sees.

I hear the buzz of the wires

that no one else hears.

The jacket’s warmth keeps me here

it keeps me sane.

But I am oh-so cold

White-padded cell

with those flickering lights

and that annoying buzzing.

With nothing but a white-filled vision

and complete isolation,

only the jacket ‘round my body.

It’s presence is meant to protect,

to keep me from acting out.

from hurting myself.

From hurting others.

From blocking the buzzing and the lights.

From keeping myself sane.

From escaping from this room that isn’t mine.

From running from my pains.

It prevents me from curing my pains.

It worses my throbbing head.

It locks me up as crazy.

“You don’t belong here,”

The beady-eyed demon yells,

saying that I’m, “not myself.”

As my smile shifts and curls,

matching the walls’ movements.

This face is not my own.

The smile is cutting my cheeks,

blood is pouring from my mouth.

I am not my own,

but I did not belong here when I was placed here.

Yet this jacket has my name

embroidered in the back.

On the tag digging into my flesh.

This padded cell has my name

engraved on the plaque outside.

The blooded name on my flesh

is how I know this body is mine.

My screams fill this room of mine,

as I protest against my jacket.

This is my room now.

There is no way anyone would understand.

I cannot leave my room,

I cannot leave this white jacket ‘round my body.

It’s why I know I belong here