For Mum,

Tea stained walls of the women’s hall,
Stepped outside for a breather.
Screams and cries came from your door,
Shaken up still from the nights before.

You stood there
In the open air 
Colours came and went 
Judging you on the money you spent.
You took them.
It was two pm.

Ran down those hollow walled halls
Rushed to A&E and you swore 
This would be the last time you went there 
After pumping your insides whilst the monster sat in a chair

They nudged and pushed and laughed and scorned 
Memories of your mother guarded with thorns
The indistinctive words you spoke,
I tried to forget with every toke.

And it’s been Five years since I took that bumper book of jokes,
Cautiously down from the attic to make you smile, 
It was my childish naivety  to think it would last a short while.

You cried, you smiled and now you laugh
Spoke about Jesus, Noah and the ark
Seeing your parents at the foot of your bed
Locked inside a world within your head.

A dark presence came over you
Broken and beaten, snapped in two
Up and down like a yo-yo
Applaud for the man who would go through this solo.

Now your hairs gone grey.
The feelings frayed.
But you sat there a heap of bones.
Drowned in a dressing gown of skin.
Lost on the plastic encrusted bed you were in.

I still remember the smell
I still remember the taste
I still remember your tear kissed face.
But what worries me now is how it could be:
Coffee stained walls of a teen psych ward
And you stepping outside for a breather.