when i first read charlotte’s story
i thought
‘who does the woman really see within the yellow walls?’

i realize now that
she saw me.
and my best friend.
and my mother.
and my grandmother.
and my great grandmother.
and perhaps she sees you, too.

she watches as we try to claw ourselves out.
we are fighting for our lives.
our sanity.
one year, five years, thirty years, fifty years out.

we are trying to escape
the thick coating of self-loathing
of hatred.
and we wonder
if we are indeed mad
or if instead
it’s society
that’s confined us to these walls
trapped behind
the yellow wallpaper.

— kass mangione: “poemspartum: pregnancy, postpartum, motherhood, seasons (growth)” (2024)