i will be back to normal,
they keep on saying that
those in white
and green uniforms surrounding
me in this state
of being worn out
like a blown
tire.

(must have been abnormal
for the past years,
how could i not notice that
on my twisted tongue
my boxed face and
languid hands,
whorled bones like
a prison door,)

yes, i tell them
i will be back to normal,
to a place
where i will not
be thinking much
about a birthplace
a mole in the sea
a moon on placid lake
unmoving

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/back-to-normal/