Conversations Poem by Wendy Moravec

Shh, don’t let them hear our so-called crazy talk.
They’ll just try to stop us and lock us up again.
What’s the point though, when they lock us in together?
Me and my special friend only I can speak to and hear.
It’s alright with me as long as we’re not separated.
There’s nothing they can do to stop our conversations.
But I don’t like the rooms they put us into for days.
They feel so cold and bright and sterile.
I tell myself to stay strong, that there’s nothing they can do.
But it’s so hard to hear you when they use those big needles.
Shake it off, clear your head, my mind screams.
So I fight the fog with the help of my encouraging friend.
You’ve got to keep fighting or they’ll take me away forever.
Hurry before it’s too late and they make me disappear.
Shh, you’re getting too loud, someone might hear you.
You’re not too bright dear, if you think that, are you?
Quiet or you’ll ruin all the progress I’ve made so far.
Wait, I’m confused now, which voice is mine?
Who says you were ever even a part of the conversation?