The doctor shook his head and said: 'I don't know, she's a vaguely intelligent girl.'
I smiled at him and, puzzled, he waved.
I don't think he got the joke, I don't think you get it either.
He turned to me with a sharpened implement: 'Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit.'
'That's a shame,' I remember thinking.
I tried to cut myself last night. Not teenage, 'I need the attention cutting', you understand.
No. I wanted to rip my skin off to watch myself bleed.
I've always thought that fresh blood's beautiful.
The doctor walked back towards me. 'Are you okay?' he asked nervously, whilst whispering: 'I don't think we've seen this before' to his colleague.
His colleague turned and offered me a frightened smile. 'How are we today?'
'Oh, I'm feeling a little better' I replied.
'Good, good.'
I wasn't upset at all, I just wanted to watch the blood gushing from my yellowed skin.
But I would never tell them that.
'How do you feel about answering a few questions?' the doctor asked me.
'Sure, that's fine', I gently eased the clipboard from his outstretched hand.
'Have you got a pen I could borrow?'
'Didn't you bring your own? You should have realised that this happens every time you come here', he heaved a sigh and handed me his chewed biro.
'Thanks. I'll remember to bring one next time.'
It's comments like that that really bother me, but I pushed the doctor's sarcasm to the back of my mind and silently filled out the questionnaire.
Some of the questions were really rather amusing: 'what do you think of the view?' was my personal favourite.
'Thanks for doing that for us.' He patted me on the head and rewarded me with a sweet, as if I was some sort of submissive puppy.
He sat down in a comfortable looking chair beside me and looked me earnestly in the eyes.
'So, do you want to talk about it?'
'Talk about what?' I restrained myself from laughing at him.
He leaned towards me and whispered 'when you cut yourself' coarsely into my ear, while his eyes darted across the room.
'What do you want me to say?'
'Oh, just talk about it to me. Begin at the beginning.'
Well, where else would I begin?
'No, I'm okay thanks. There's really nothing to talk about.'
I eased myself from the chair and started to leave.
'You are coming back tomorrow, right?'
'Sure.' I laughed and left.
Author notes
I have no idea... Absolutely none.
Written June 17th, 2004
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What did you think
Comments
1 - 23 of 23
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Lol, thank you very much. I have no idea where this came from. Barbie. Xx
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This is so incredibly intriguing. I love it. Just reading gives me the sense of paranoia, schizophrenia and disillusionment all in one. Keep it up.
~jen -
Lol, aha - you stalker! Yes, Ms Barbie does not drop her guard quite so easily. Hmmm, forgettable - possibly.
Thanks. Barbie. Xx
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Well, well, well Ms Barbie at her finest. I was pointed here by a sign on her web page, I was thinking she might drop her guard and post her real image during this free session of gold. But no, instead she had directions to this image; her best. I think, I like this one better. I’m quite sure the other would look like some forgettable stranger seen on public transport, not at all impressive enough to remember or want to follow home. But, this image tells all; a person of substance with an eye for the leaders seat at the front of the bus, out of reach of mere random travellers.
Thank you. Sweet dreams. f (Barbie goes fishing – catches cold – discovers sunshine)
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Lol, yup. A couple of pencils short of a stationery cupboard... Thanks. Barbie. Xx
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hahaha
oh babe you`re just too bad
lol
you`re a couple sandwiches shy of a picnic....and I love it
I ain`t that normal either....I love that 2 -
Thanks. Barbie. Xx
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Ah, I see. It isn't? Lol. Thanks. Barbie. Xx
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great
I liked it. . . . . It was well written. I hope you keep writing. Thanks for sharing!!!
Love
Amelia
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Ah, thank you. Barbie. Xx
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Lol, I'm surprised the idea that it might have been serious even crossed your mind! Perhaps I'm crazier than I take credit for? No? Lol, okay thanks. Glad you got a laugh out of it - that's what it was for!
Barbie. Xx
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malobole got it right.i just got out of a facility and the poem is'nt weird
Edited on Jul 07, 9:06 because 'bad spelling'. -
kinda funny, barbie. a very strange little story that offers us nothing in the way of insight into you, but the situation is well painted, for the most part.
if this were mine, i would "cut" the last line. it ruined the ending for me. I think it would be more effective to leave it open ended with merely the implication that he would not be seeing you again...no need to be so explicit. -
Not sure if this was spoofing or serious. I, personally, got a good laugh out of it. Kudos.
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Lol, thanks. Barbie. Xx
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ok....nice
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Lol, thanks, methinks... Barbie. Xx
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You come up with this in conversations? Lol, thanks. Barbie. Xx
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Today is Friday....
Art at 10:00,
Lunch at Noon,
Group by 2:00,
Dr. by 3:00 - if at all-,
Supper at 4:00,
MEDS and BEDS,
Let's do it again!
Only tip-toe through the Mythos.
Blondie,
~Considerable Substance here, not an attempt at light and breezy, but I think I've got the image you cast. Walking the catacombs? Watch the footpath. Thought scattering gnomes lurk beyond the dim light....I'm still thinking of the write so I must like it! ~M~ -
more of a strange story than a poem...!
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yep, definitely wierd, even more wierd than some of the stuff i've come up with in conversations (trust me its weird), but hey weirld is good...and so is this poem
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Lol, yup.
Caz. Xx
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o............................k full of rubbish and weirdness
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