key line - maybe i'm a beach knocked about by waves
I read this medical study when I was around twelve or so.
Still scares me.
Some poor woman had a breakdown and just kept drinking water until she drowned from within. It's the first poetic monologue I ever wrote. Still remains a template of sorts. Folks trapped in horrible, absurd circumstances, fixated on small, petty things.
On the page, the scansion's deliberately sprawling. Reads like a dream. The first few sentences attempt to maintain a poetic form, but then it just collapses into a nervous chorus of words.