Stuck in Circles
The lights are faulty in our kitchen. This is not a metaphor for my daughter who’s been two weeks and counting in the children’s psychiatric hospital – one day perfect, the next day broken. It’s a breaker or a fuse gone bad. They flickered for a while and then just went dark – another reminder to not take things for granted.
She fills sheets
with perfect little
circles, tight and connected
without touching. Filling one
page after another, until the whole
unit is copying her design.
Sometimes words appear:
I’m terrified.
I want my body to get lost at sea.
I am not me.
I want to feel something. I want to die.
When people ask if I’m okay, I say,
NO. I AM NOT OKAY. I WILL NEVER BE
OKAY AGAIN. Okay is no longer an option.
The minute I accept her absence as normal
is the minute she is lost at sea and I am stuck in circles.
A poet asks what love is, and I answer,
THIS – this nightmare I can’t get out of is love.
I thought I knew before, but I was wrong.
Love is not the sunny beach I thought it was, but here
in the deep, dark sea where the sharks keep circling
while the empty bottom waits patiently for your limbs
to exhaust and your lungs to fill
with water and salt.
Copyright © Kim Drew Wright 2018
Kim Drew Wright has fiction and poetry published in numerous journals. The Strangeness of Men, her debut collection of short fiction and prose poems, won an IPPY and Finalist in USA Best Book Awards. She is a human rights activist and founded Liberal Women of Chesterfield County & Beyond. You can find out more at kimdrewwright.com or liberalwomenofchesterfieldcounty.com. She lives in Richmond, Virginia with her family, and, is currently learning that mental illness can strike anyone – even the most intelligent, interesting, and wonderful little girl.
30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review
Hang in there, Kim! I’m praying or its equivalent that they’ll find the answer. (And it’s a fine, raw poem, even if that’s so not the point right now.)
poetry does what it’s supposed to do.Strike the arrow of truth in your heart.
All the “O’s” in your response to how you are remind me of the cocoon, the womb, the love you’re encircling your wonderful daughter with. When you think you can’t continue this struggle, you continue with all your remarkable core strength. I’m sending you love.
I can send love and thank you for sharing how mental illness can strike anyone, any time.
So brave, and powerful, thanks for sharing.
Very thought provoking❤️
This is – in plain words – a fine poem. I will save it to re-read. It deserves attention.
Your poem speaks to a mother’s love, boundless in any age, that will keep all afloat until it figures out how to swim in those challenging waters. Thanks for sharing.