I feel the fresh breeze blowing through the doors.
And all around me is cold, clinical.
This is not how I imagined my life would be:
here among those bereft of sanity.
I’m not even sure if I’m sane myself.
But I remember.
He put me here.
He said it was for my good.
That’s what all bad men say.

O how I remember the feelings of my fingers
on those cold keys in the esteemed place
that seemed so far away from the life I’d known.
Mozart flowed off my fingers.
The keys moved and my audience cheered.
It was dreamlike.
I was so young, still not yet 20.
Still full of hope.
Studying at the finest school of music in the world.
Who would have thought?

And then, Oh God, then.
Then, I met him.
Heaven help me.
He was so charming. Then.

The meal trolly is coming. I can hear it.
The usual stop.
The same routine. The fingers.
These fingers that held my promise are stilled.

 

20/3/2024