The clock hand clutched the number 12
It didn't let go
Time stood still
As did I
These blue flames under my brow
Are quenched by heavy tired lids
But anger and rage consume me
And I can't find the trigger
Which controls this mood
My hunger for food is faded
I hunt for memories of who I was
Digesting and assimilating
My new surroundings, my new home
But I don't even feel at home
In this mind, or in this body
I know your face from somewhere
It's like looking in a mirror
You call me "mum"
And stroke my hand
But I need you to be my mum
Then you leave and blow a kiss
It drifts across the room
With the heavy scent of disinfectant
My soft, bland dinner arrives
And thick beige tea
Which will remain untouched and solitary
Like I am now
And I look for that trigger again
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