They said it was impossible.But she did it anyway.She walked away.And she knew that she was not fit to face the world,And that if she left she would end up on the street.And that the street would eat her up.But she did it anyway.She walked away.And the doctors threw up their hands in disbelief.She’s gone mad, some said.She was already mad, said others.But she did it anyway.She walked away.And now she spends her days here and there - Dirty, unkempt, and mad.But she feels the breezeShe sweats out in the heatAnd dips her hands into the poolAnd pulls the water to her face So as to feel the coolness on her cheeks.And laughs.She laughs and laughs.And talks to her imaginary friends.And sometimes she is very scared.And sometimes very sad.But, she says, in her most coherent moments.At least it’s real.At least I am the thing I am.

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