Poster Child

She is restless beneath her skin
A good half inch in between their arms
And her ivory barriers
Cello string veins
Out of tune with constrained pitches
Swallow her piano key teeth
Attempting to break free
The notes she is undeserving of
Collateral damage etched on the inside
Of her tapestries of red
The scarlet letter
But her body is the ostracized
Can they not see the ribbons she laced up to her knees?
Endeavoring to console the broken hinges
With which she blames too much
With which she blames everything
All her fault
Truly she knows it is
All her fault
Sentenced with jail time
The facility-
An anguished seclusion
In which she reels the delusions
One after the other
A line of extinct rosy views
Can they not hear her cadences?
Rasped out in a hoarse lilt
She is smoke confined under pressure
She is the meter
With no measure
They prescribe no medicine for the sick
Who have no hope of getting better