To be Weak by Yvette Hess
My memory flickers but
That is what I felt that that clinic.
The one for our
Depressives and the disorderly-
But not really loved were we, not by all the staff.
It just held me,
us- for a little while,
From the buzz in our heads, buzz from Main road
Buzz from the world.
And now I miss some of the soft-spoken nurses and the horrible food that needed more affection.
But why? I’m home. At the clinic I longed to be home, and be that a home for my children.
Now I see I fight the battles the clinic gave me tools
And strength to use.
To fight the daily wars we enter into;
Small, and deep ones we hardly know are there.
But I don’t want to fight.
In this very moment, I am timid and needing that frail old nurse and her kind words
And my hospital bed in the corner:
A moment and a place
To be weak.