There has been a haziness
about the last weeks.
They have taken me off
some heavy-duty medicines,
and things are becoming clearer
now. I sit and dream in the dayroom,
but my mind is ticking over.
I feel bad pulling this drama, when
they’ve all been so good to me.
I’m not sure I can face their kindness
without some tears.
The head nurse tells me my brother
came, but I have no memory of it.
I don’t believe I have schizophrenia,
it’s just a glamorous label mental health
people like to throw around. There
is no talk of discharging me.
I’m scared I’ll become institutionalised.