Things I loved before I shut myself away:
That bench, where the tips of trees scratched the sky,
The hospital, grey as a prison,
Where I traced
The tangled knitting of the brain.
That stained glass window,
Those flowers.
When they shaved my head
I felt free.
© Tabitha Potts
This poem was created to accompany an artwork for an exhibition by Cheli Mula at Vout O’Reenees. The photo is courtesy of Sankar.