Treasure Island

Claudia Krizay

(1/28/1956 / Washington DC)

From the Inside Out


I have been patiently waiting for the coming of spring,
I hear a breeze rustling the buds upon the trees outside-
I look out of this window and I can clearly see
Daffodils and more daffodils swaying in a gentle burst of wind-
My own mind seems to be swaying
From reality into fantasy-
In this moment I cannot discern veracity-
They brought me to this place last night
I hardly know the person I am
Into this room they put me and I can hear the door closing behind me
And the turning of the key in the lock-

I used to say I lived for this time of the year
When everything seemed to be reborn
Robins sang and blue jays called
Cardinals garbed in their red attire perched upon branches of maple trees,
Moss is blue-green and grass is growing everywhere-
Budding cherry blossoms are opening their faces to the world-
This magnificent place that has not been kind to me-
And to which I cannot relate-
They brought me to this place last night-
Into this room they put me and I can still hear the door slamming
And the turning of the key in the lock.

I can almost envision the warm air so typical of this time of year
Although inside this room it feels cold and foreign
Clothed in none but a white gown,
I hold my arms closely together trying to protect myself from the cold
Although I cannot contain my thoughts being in such disarray-
Looking outside the window,
Suddenly the world seems to be spiraling out of control-
I cannot get a reign upon my thoughts and the threatening voices only I can hear-
They brought me to this place last night-
Into this room they put me and I can hear the door slamming,
And the turning of the key in the lock.

I remember the days many years ago
When I would pick a daffodil in my father’s garden and tuck it behind my ear-
Those were the days before I lost my sense of direction, and
Before I was plagued with the frightening voices- those only I can hear.
I remember seeing wild geese flying above me when I walked-
When I walked upon the trail in the woodlands-
In my fantasies I would become a wild goose myself, soaring above this vast world-
I know that birds have simple lives and don’t get sucked into the horrors of insanity.

life has become an uphill battle and
I am climbing ladders in my dreams trying to find my heaven-
Perhaps meeting face to face with angels in the sky,
Instead of living in this pain burning my spirit in the hell beneath my feet-
Daffodils shall blossom and bloom every spring and
Birds continue to chant their chorus early every morning-
At the same time I am trying to find myself and some purpose to my life,
I know I can only see the world through this picture window because
They brought me to this place last night-
Now I hardly know the person who I am and how long
I will be confined inside this cage
Where the floors are urine stained and the walls are tiled.
Even above my high pitched screaming
I still hear the slamming of the door behind me-
I lift my imaginary wings to fly away from this trap they put me in
But I know there is no escape- there is no escape,
I feel my time is about to run out and I can still hear the turning of the key in the lock…

Claudia Krizay

From the Inside Out

I have been patiently waiting for the coming of spring,
I hear a breeze rustling the buds upon the trees outside-
I look out of this window and I can clearly see
Daffodils and more daffodils swaying in a gentle burst of wind-
My own mind seems to be swaying
From reality into fantasy-
In this moment I cannot discern veracity-
They brought me to this place last night
I hardly know the person I am
Into this room they put me and I can hear the door closing behind me
And the turning of the key in the lock-

I used to say I lived for this time of the year
When everything seemed to be reborn
Robins sang and blue jays called
Cardinals garbed in their red attire perched upon branches of maple trees,
Moss is blue-green and grass is growing everywhere-
Budding cherry blossoms are opening their faces to the world-
This magnificent place that has not been kind to me-
And to which I cannot relate-
They brought me to this place last night-
Into this room they put me and I can still hear the door slamming
And the turning of the key in the lock.

I can almost envision the warm air so typical of this time of year
Although inside this room it feels cold and foreign
Clothed in none but a white gown,
I hold my arms closely together trying to protect myself from the cold
Although I cannot contain my thoughts being in such disarray-
Looking outside the window,
Suddenly the world seems to be spiraling out of control-
I cannot get a reign upon my thoughts and the threatening voices only I can hear-
They brought me to this place last night-
Into this room they put me and I can hear the door slamming,
And the turning of the key in the lock.

I remember the days many years ago
When I would pick a daffodil in my father’s garden and tuck it behind my ear-
Those were the days before I lost my sense of direction, and
Before I was plagued with the frightening voices- those only I can hear.
I remember seeing wild geese flying above me when I walked-
When I walked upon the trail in the woodlands-
In my fantasies I would become a wild goose myself, soaring above this vast world-
I know that birds have simple lives and don’t get sucked into the horrors of insanity.
Life has become an uphill battle and
I am climbing ladders in my dreams trying to find my heaven-
Perhaps meeting face to face with angels in the sky,
Instead of living in this pain burning my spirit in the hell beneath my feet-

Daffodils shall blossom and bloom every spring and
Birds continue to chant their chorus early every morning-
At the same time I am trying to find myself and some purpose to my life,
I know I can only see the world through this picture window because
They brought me to this place last night-
Now I hardly know the person who I am and how long
I will be confined inside this cage
Where the floors are urine stained and the walls are tiled.
Even above my high pitched screaming
I still hear the slamming of the door behind me-
I lift my imaginary wings to fly away from this trap they put me in
But I know there is no escape- there is no escape,
I feel my time is about to run out and I can still hear the turning of the key in the lock…

Submitted: Sunday, April 07, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, October 09, 2013

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