SIENE MICHELLE PALIZZI
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Something OUtside of Herself

I get my typewriter out
And it says to me, “Push my buttons.”
This is what I type:
   Psychosis wipes away the tears 
   Of frozen words.
   You say, “She’s possessed!”
    But that does not capture the meaning.
    Words are spectrums - 
    Not concrete shapes.
    I say, “She’s also on the spectrum 
   Of inspired - 
   Something outside of herself causes
   Her to dance, to tick.
   "If it’s not black or white, 
   Then it’s gray?”
   No! What we’re talking about 
   Isn't even colors.
   It’s shades - or shadows really
   And how they appear 
   And disappear.
   Mental illness is a bad choice of terms.
   I got issues - you got issues.
   That’s it!
   And hell no! - I don’t want 
   Your issues instead of mine.
   I have abstract thoughts
   That have broken me from the 
   Wrist ties that keep us locked away,
   And from reasoning and speaking.
   I’ve slipped away enough times
   To know I don’t do any kind of
   Cocktail that will make me slip again.
   It’s a question I’ve faced - 
   Whether to have a daughter that 
   Might be a duplicate of me.
   I would protect her.
   Oh glorious! I’ve climbed a mountain
   Before and given a speech to no one.
   Oh dreadful! I’ve nailed a semi-truck
   And only by God’s grace stand here now.
   Oh police! Oh naked in terror
   Running down the street.
   Sheer terror makes my rides
   Not worth any set of dollar bills.
   I am older than I look.
   I’ve been possessed and inspired!
   At war and brought about peace!
   I am known in the spirit world
   And I have been anointed. 
   Oil has glazed down my head - my crown.
I put the typewriter down and speak.
I said psychosis wipes away the tears of frozen words.
That cocktails can free us from our prisons.
If you zero in on thousands of years what are ladies still talking about?
The glorious, the dreadful, and the police.
Inspiration, war and peace.
Cocktails, the spirit world, my issues - her issues.
Protecting their daughters.
The woman’s shadow has always been there, it never disappears.
But almost all shadows are worth chasing after.
Something outside of herself causes
Her to dance, to tick.
"If it’s not black or white, 
Then it’s gray?”
No! What we’re talking about 
Isn't even colors.
It’s shades - or shadows really
And how they appear 
And disappear.
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