Once I was hospitalized for several months,
for a schizoaffective disorder.
A lot of fear was going on in my mind.
I had a friend,
a sixty-years old homeless lady and a child.
Our child named Jerry,
was a mouse we fed breathcrumbs.
In the yard of the hospital we soon got others copying us.
Jerry became the symbol of hope and love.
Of our illnesses,
elusive and omnipresent.
And the staff hated it.
We weren’t allowed to show affection towards a rodent,
so they tried to trick it, kill it.
Jerry always got away.
I saw love in a person who was institutionalized for 20 years on end,
every couple of hours ge got outside he revitalized,
tasting a sip of freedom.
enough to keep him going.
And love…I saw more of sincere love over there than I probably was hoping to find in the real world.