Coach eight seat eight C

Coach eight seat eight C, I repeated
incessantly when my mind decided
to abandon my folly and me. My only
companion an unstable incapacity
to think. A brain refusing any incoming
synapse, neurons pretending deafness
as I shouted out for help from within,
searching for myself and my protector
me. Coach eight seat eight C, when
the doctor decided to keep me in, no
signature to affix on papers to ensure
my release, they had managed to teach
me, I should ask for help when I could
not aid myself, and so I did. Twenty-four
hours of surveillance before I could
finally escape from he who voluntarily
tortured my reason. Getaway. Ran to
the harbour, bought the ferry ticket left
the island, crossed the sea, reached
the mainland. The chaos of Naples felt
like peace to me. Proceeded to the station
glimpsing behind me as if followed by a ghost,
bought the train ticket, Coach eight seat eight C,
I repeated incessantly when my mind decided
to abandon my folly and me. I recovered
eight weeks later in the safe of love and lack
of attention, for those who know me know
I despise the mercy of the spotlight. Let me be
and I will just be.
[Featured painting: The Third-Class Carriage by Honoré Daumier]