Four square sides help cubing her in,
pastel walls peelings their delicate skin
A journey to take her for all that's she's worth -
needle on plastic - a quickening birth
Nothing to hurt her, to mock or appraise,
lest the red star collides with all that she says
Melancholia outed, a slow steady rate,
left the vinyl and cardboard to delineate
Enclosed in a side room, no nurses to gape,
where the voice and the vibe have no chance of escape
A soar through the heartstrings, a tour through the veins
as she reaches that faux exaltation again
Just a passion to keep her from harming herself
with her universe stacked on that pitiful shelf
Come hither and cover her, notes to advance
for an hour a day only in sweet severance
**********************************
