Screams from the soul of a tortured one
Sleep lost for all, don’t stay, RUN
Locked room with no corners, no edges
The walls just circular, padded hedges
Time knows no clock in the room we’re held
Minutes feel like hours, the walls press in
Gray from the floor to the bed
Fills this “sanctuary” with dread
Head constantly looking for a way out
Out of the room built for peace
But no peace will be seen here tonight
It’s all wrong there’s nothing right
Voices of false concern come from speakers unseen
Nightmares are born here, not dreams
The rustling of keys as I fight in the oval
My greatest opponent unknown except the voice
This fight is one I’ve seen before
New arena, same opponent
* * *
“Sanctuary” was written during a ketamine therapy session—a treatment I’ve undergone for four years for treatment-resistant depression. The poem examines the paradox of psychiatric “sanctuaries” that can feel like imprisonment, and questions whether medical containment serves healing or control. The poem documents the firsthand experience of psychiatric treatment from a patient’s perspective, often missing from clinical discussions. It critiques institutional approaches while acknowledging the complexity of needing help that may not actually heal.
I am a mental health advocate and poet from Long Island, New York. A former Division 1 multi-sport recruit and 23-year special education teacher, I’ve navigated psychiatric treatment for 40 years, including ketamine therapy since 2021 and intensive treatment following a 2024 suicidal crisis. My debut collection, From Darkness to Light, is forthcoming in June 2026.
