To the Psych Workers Who Want to be my Friend:
You tell me about how much you hate your job
You tell me how burnt out you are.
Was it from watching other
burnt out inmates-patients-never-people
Be kicked around by your work buddies who are burnt out too?
And you tell me about your new job lined up after this because I’m your favorite pet-patient-never-person
And you’ll miss me—not enough to free me—then you clock out and go home
And watch whatever you want and microwave as many burritos as you wish
Take the edge off after a long day of being complacent, why not?
And then you go onto the anti-psych hashtags on Tumblr and share your sympathy with us
And yap about how you wish things were better while the money from our families (if we aren’t paying for our own capture) fills up your wallet
You talk about how sad you are for us in our spaces and communities
As if our liberation was ever meant to be yours.
