She sat in the room with
	the clear wall.
sat at the table with me.

	who talked to God in the sunlight,
	who professed her virtue to all,
	who had spent three days in a 

	who didn't flinch
		when she saw the girl with the paperclips
		stuck through her arm,
		pus squirting out onot the
		dark blue rug.
Alison always stood with me 
	in the medication line,
Never complaining until she needed Cogentin,
	because her whole body was cramped up and
	she walked around like Pinocchio or 
	some kind of zomnbie.
She didn't even complain about that red stuff
	that was supposed to be meat that
	i gagged on (having just taken
	many pills of all shapes and colors:
	green and yellow oval,
	pink hexagon,
	white circle).

She never cried until the boy with the
	fingernail self-inflicted scars on his arms
	(which reminded of a flesh-colored map
	with sanguine rivers and hairy trees)
	told of how he had tried to kill his mother.

	who is probably still sitting in a room
	with a clear wall.