In This Place

In this place

there is no me.

I look in the mirror

and all I see

is a strangersuffering.

She lays in bed

for hours,

tending to a baby

that needs her.

She puts pieces

of food in her mouth,

chews like a scene being filmed,

and spits it out 

She moves slowly,

dragging through

a tar-like state.

But her heart

pounds like a race horse

just let out of its gate. What is this place?

She cries in this

lonely state.

Behind a glass

she bangs and bangs —

a prisoner of time

but there was no crime.

She wonders

if her sentence

will be over soon,

if every afternoon

the setting sun

morphs into a blazing snake

constricting her fear.

She looks in the mirror:

a stranger atmosphere.

The dark endless night softens

A pale morning sunrise.

A small respite I let out a long sigh.