Section 3, By Louise M. Hart

Through the eons of my suffering
And the perpetuity of my pain
Dissociated from the familiarity
Of shared meaning
And consensual reality
The spectres of madness and misery
Fuelled my existential shame

Lost in the wilderness
Of unceasing mental flights
And the fights to still
The rapid thoughts
That summoned my ecstatic anguish
And melancholic blue delight
Like a whore I surrendered
To the inevitability of my plight

So, I dismantled my pedestal
Only to be captured
By the arms of jailers
Paid to determine my fate
I was to be the accused
In a never ending trial
By the hegemony of The State

Whilst my body became secured
Within a hospital ward
Policed by nurses and hate
My mind, formerly determinate and solid
Fragmented into a thousand fragile parts
Each one expressing the torment
Of my sick and tired heart
And my inner voice externalised
Into a universal yell
That began with a whimpering
“Help me nurse, I don’t feel well”
Penetrated the ether, like a needle
In the arse of my medicated hell
And culminated
In an angry roar of silence

I was baptised
For the second time
Not in holy water
But, my mutilated throat’s
Choking saliva
The shattered expectations
Of the socially excluded
The sacrificial flesh
Of my grubby duffel coat

Even my doting Mother
Could not perceiveThe blood and bones
I saw through human flesh
The words only I could hear
That inflamed my agitation
And saturated my soul with fear
And ontological distress

So, I challenged all perception
And claimed that reality was a scam
A grand hallucination
In which existence was woman
And matter did not matter
For I was the only one and true
Living Madhatter


Louise M. Hart lives in Birmingham. She is the author of 2 published novels and a poetry collection. Currently, Louise is studying a Masters degree in creative writing and assembling a new poetry collection.

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