Public Housing

by Neesa Suncheuri
No One is Disabled.
Candy wrappers and tampons under the bed.
Some ants feast, corpses of older generations remain.
In the corners underneath furniture,
Mouse droppings…
Yet still, mine is a civilized home.

Clothes unwashed, nothing is sorted.
No more toilet paper, water will suffice.
Dollar store soap bottle, refilled with water.
And a brillo pad, all but brown rusted shreds…
Yet still, I live here, and my life has meaning.

In the evening, I climb under my sheets,

And fall asleep, like everyone else.
When I awake, I use the restroom and wash,
Just like everyone else too.
The house is stuffy, I open the window,
The spring sunlight reflects off the leaves.
And when I go outside for a morning walk,
The sun reflects off me too.
There’s nothing at all wrong with my life.
I live day to day, paycheck to paycheck.

And to contemplate life in between payments?

That is sublime indeed.
And the mark of
True wealth.
neesas1
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.
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