You drive an hour that she hates, in a car that moves too fast too far too often

Once a week to doctor B who watches the way the arrows move

says no rhubarb and no milk and no sugar

You ask him about food. She doesn’t like it any more

and he says try this for Now

As you leave he asks has she had a head injury?

Now runs out

Doctor B says it is Beyond Him

She stays home

She stays home

She is pleased about no more driving too far too fast too often

with her eyes on the hills going past

and she lies down

To specialist C

A paediatrician

             who measures this and that

             takes more blood

             finds Nothing Untoward

To the nurse (no angel) when the doctor is not there

             who says it’s about time you snapped out of it my girl

             it’s all in your head

             after nine months of lying down – it’s time to get up!

To specialist D

A psychiatrist

             who says these pills will lift your spirits

They don’t

             perhaps some more

             perhaps some more

More

*

No spirit lifts

A small knife lifts

             in her hand

It’s not a bad bleed really

They find her in her room

with her pink cellphone

             – whispering 1111 1111 1111 1111 1111 1111

*

She says she is having none of this or that

She says she is sick of it all

             the feeling of not getting up

             and the feeling of not getting up

             and not knowing where up should/could be

             and down is a faster, quieter place

The knives are taken away, taken away ha ha