Friday, 15 June 2012

Inside The Treatment Zone by J S Watts




Inside The Treatment Zone

struggling for a fluid line
                                                direct flow into the patient
reality callously insinuates
it is never going to get there
wherever there is.
                                                                         Trying, though. Trying.
                                                Palpable washed-out quivering liberal feelings
searching for empathy, bone-digging comprehension
that sweet temptation of someone else’s truth
understood boundaries dissolve in the flood
                                                I can’t understand. Will always fail to understand
                                                                                                                                I
veins open and bleeding
                                                            life barely breathing pink.
seeing through a one-way window
                                                                        the glass barely pink.
life inside the treatment zone is open and bleeding
                                                                                    my words barely pink
                                                                                                and yet I claim
                                                                                                            imagine, presume
                                                                                                                                  write
random words, splattered with red messy life
inside the treatment zone
fluids flow up hill
                                                            inside the treatment zone
                                                                        I am always looking out
looking inwards
seeing only myself
flowing up hill.
to see inside the treatment zone
you have to have lived it
from the inside out
open and bleeding
                                                            Sticking plasters are pink
                                                                        will never contain a life
                                                                                    flowing up hill.


by J S Watts


J.S.Watts lives and writes in Cambridge in the U.K. Her poetry, reviews and short stories have appeared in a diversity of publications in Britain, Canada, Australia and the States including Ascent Aspirations, Acumen, Envoi, Mslexia and Orbis and have been broadcast on BBC and Independent Radio. She has been until recently the Poetry Reviews Editor for Open Wide Magazine. Her debut poetry collection, "Cats and Other Myths", is published by Lapwing Publications and her first novel is due out from Vagabondage Press in Autumn 2012. For further details see www.jswatts.co.uk or you can find J.S. Watts on Facebook at www.facebook.com/J.S.Watts.page