My Idea of Normal

I have been standing behind the wardrobe for 16 hours
1 am
pacing pacing pacing
The torch shone at my face
Beams of hatred
Vile wishes
I have lost everything
I have lost everything
I have lost myself
I wait under the bush
In the catastrophe bag
Tied up in knots
Thisistheworstchoice
Theworstchoice
Thisisnochoice
There is no rest
No safety
The bag is safe
The bench the cold juice the shakes
That is safe
Mine
Who I am
What I want
I will never speak again
For once the words have been spoken
I become lost
I will reclaim myself
Tomorrow
I will reclaim myself
My being
Tomorrow
I will become normal again
I will fill the bag so tightly
Savour every particle
Every granule
Scrub away from inside
These 111 filthy
Wasted days.