Monday, 12 August 2013

Memoirs of an excavated skeleton

I feel it on my chest
My ribs splintering under the weight
And all around me is darkness
Soil in my mouth
My eyes
My heart

And still I reach up my straightjacketed hand
Desperate for a drink
Dying of thirst
The endless urge gnawing at my throat, eating my flesh from the inside
What I wouldn’t do for one glass of whiskey
One breath of fresh air
One gold coin in my pocket

The memories of that godforsaken pool
Of the crazed loons, that gurgled and pissed in its waters
The chains that bound us to those frozen stone walls
Straw beneath our feet

The so-called physicians that stole from us
Our blood
Our vomit
Our sanity
Our minds

I hear them digging above
Scratching, searching, looking for me?
And the gleam of stark sunlight will one day cut through
And reveal to the world what they did to us
They will not be able to hide forever

Too much drink dulled my senses,
And now my head is full of stagnant, raging memories
Nightmares of the raving
My only joy condemned me
Hurled into a prison for the damned
Stripped of my rights, my clothes, my positions
Labelled forever more:
A Lunatic of Bedlam

S J Menary

2013 Liverpool Lime Street Station Crossrail Excavation Project on the site of the former St Bethlem Hospital (founded 1247), the first dedicated mental health hospital in England, and the orgins of the corruption 'Bedlam' 

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