by Neesa Suncheuri
Let my child grow and gestate within me.
Let her explore my warm insides,
And find safety before her birth,
I teach children at a school,
They raise their hands and question
This child you created,
Their parents gossip about me.
You are absent from the dinner table.
I spend my evenings harboring their
Complaints on the cell phone,
On the playground outside, I see
Parents with their legitimate children in strollers.
My child yet is unseen, and I try to hide from them too,
You called it art when you
Carved me a child
Then took your knife
And you carved me too,
Then you spilled all my reds
But couldn’t clean up
‘Cause you said you were
This child is a rainbow
You will never see.
Staff Writer – Poetry
Neesa Suncheuri works as a mental health peer specialist at a housing agency in Queens, New York. She is the founder of a Facebook discussion group for peer specialists and other recovery enthusiasts, entitled “What is Wellness? A Mental Health Discussion Group.” Much of her creative inspiration is rooted in her now-tamed schizophrenia. She writes poetry and fiction, and maintains a blog called Unlearning Schizophrenia. She is also a singer/songwriter, and an enthusiast for the German language and culture. Follow her on Twitter at @neesasuncheuri.