20150802: Woken By Voices

I am woken by voices;

called back from my happy place

by the urgency of the demand

to wake up - now.

I am told to eat; I eat.

I don't know what it is.  

I don't know why I eat

I just do as I am told.

What is this fugue state, 

this disassociation that envelopes me,

that requires carers to admonish,

conjole me to stay awake?

I am startled again by voices:

Stay awake! Eat!

I sit straight in my seat, 

force my eyes to open.

It is not drugs, nor mental aberration,

but a chronic physical illness

that robs me of my energy,

so all I want to do is sleep.

I am aware of voices around me;

people, noise, TV; confounding.

I am but dimly aware of activity

as I struggle to remain awake.

All I did was to go shopping.

Shopping for a bra.

Such a problem for a body 

misshapen by medication.

Unfamiliar even to me,

My body's shape and size a mystery.

So buying a bra - any woman's misery -

Is an especial torture for me.

It only took an hour

with a carer wheeling, fetching, carrying,

frustrated by a lack of choice; 

I came away with one - only one.  

But needs must when the devil drives -

and I am now unable to make my own;

my hands weakened by disease,

and my energy also blown.

So I am finally allowed to return 

to the comforting realm of dreams,

where no one demands anything -

and bras are optional.

So I sleep.  

21 July 15

262 words, 45 lines

After taking leave from hospital and including a brief stopover at Target, Miranda to look at bras and try 2 brands.  I came away with 1 bra.  It fits well.  I eventually bought more of the same, plus several of a different style.