Empty Rooms

My aunt screams, “panic attack”,
She is a stranger in an empty room,
Room emptied of comfort, she waits
For the walls to threaten, to mime,
and to loot her, she awaits stark
Naked in a room full of people,
She feels for everyone, she breathes
As if she is breathing for everyone.

My sister whispers, “depression”, she
Sleeps with cotton balls on her bed and
She gets heavier and heavier with them,
Like an emergency room doesn’t just
Wipe blood, but takes a sip
Of the patient’s blood with each
Heartbeat left, I have been told
Not to take my sister out for lunch
As she is allergic to a lot of things,
I tell everyone she is only allergic to
Herself, there is always some side effect.

I yell, whisper, think and dance to
The songs of bipolar, in the lullabies
My mother sang, I saw them peeking,
I climb onto the rod my mother hung
Years ago, I could never grow tall,
But, I can feel my heart stretching
Inside my chest, with every emotion
Comes different shapes and sizes,
I do not know what to want because
There is so much to.

My mother’s favorite lullaby is,
“Control”, yes, we are guilty of
Existing in such a limited world.

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