Doctor, Doctor by Willameena

Doctor, Doctor


"Now tell me what you've thought about?" 
The bristled chin moves with his mouth, 
Which turned into a permanent lour condescends each waking hour.
"Do not worry, I won't tell, I'll keep your secrets long and well."
The sweaty palm that grips the pen is telling things that he's not said.
"She's gone up off her rocker, you know?" He whispers to the snickering owl.
"Keep her down and unaware. I fear her mind is worse for wear."
He talks as if you cannot hear, they take you as if you cannot feel.
You'll get your own one day a year, for hurting those who already fear.
Your judgment, clouded by ticking clocks, is ruined for her every thought.
She cannot say a single thing without you taking it the wrong way.
"Doctor, doctor! Can you cure me, when you're the one who nearly killed me?"