The Window and the Wall

 
My darling desperado
wakes confused
her meanest mood
a feather torn
from the wing of madness
retching as she reaches
for the medicine
that only numbs
and we both know
cannot cure

How light she feels
as I lift her gently
from the floor
sponge her mouth
and stroke her hair
On a good day
she might almost
manage a smile
but all that
was before

Now the eyes stay distant
I am barely recognized
or heard
She shrinks down
into her space
settling back like dust
while I sit
too terrified to stare
at what we know
awaits
beyond the window
and the wall