Sequence in Hospital. Pain.

Credit: Pixabay

At my wits’ end
And all resources gone, I lie here,

These lines show the inability of the persona to think clearly or to cope with reality. Her mental capability and her usual resources to handle everyday situations seem to have disappeared. As the persona is lying in a place which we assume to be a psychiatric hospital, we conclude she is suffering from some sort of mental illness. The immediacy of her situation is conveyed by the use of the present and by the deictic “here”.

All of my body tense to the touch of fear,

The words “All of my body” express her absolute lack of comfort, as the persona does not feel comfortable at all, and that sensation is not only mental but also physical. The persona´s nerves are on edge. The phrase “tense to the touch of fear” shows some ambiguity. It may mean either that  the tension caused in her by fear is perceived when she is touched or  that her tension and fear are created by the possibility of being touched.

And my mind,

The last line of the first stanza acts as a hinge between stanzas one and two. The phrase can be read as belonging to two different phrases at the same time. It clearly acts as the subject of the verb “to be” in the seventh line(“is no longer a safe retreat”), but the end of stanza suggests that it can also be considered part of the previous line, i.e: “All of my body [and my mind] tense to the touch of fear.”. This subversion of the normal use of grammar emphasises the confusion of her mind. The turmoil and disorder of the speaker´s state is also mirrored by the irregular lenghts of lines and the enjambment linking all stanzas.

Muffled now as if the nerves
Refused any longer to let thoughts form,

Is no longer a safe retreat, a tidy home,

In these lines, the word “muffled” shows how the normal activity of the mind is constrained and blocked by her nerves. The nerves are personified to show their power.

Two metaphors are used to express that her mind is “no longer” a place where she feels at ease: it is neither a “safe retreat” or a “tidy home”. She can not take refuge anywhere.

No longer serves

My body’s demands or shields
With fine words, as it once would daily,

My storehouse of dread. (...)

The subject of the two verbs in these lines is the noun phrase in the last line of the first stanza: “and my mind”. The expressions “no longer”, and “as it once would daily” repeat the idea conveyed in the previous lines (“any longer”) and make reference to the abilities the persona has lost in her current state.  The speaker´s mind can neither obey her body or protect her from her fears. She cannot produce any positive thoughts (“fine words”) to control her anxiety. She has given up to fear. The metaphor of the storehouse suggests that she has a large supply of dread, so she is in deep trouble if her mind can not act as a shield from it.

                         .

                                        (...) Now, slowly,
My heart, hand, whole body yield
To fear.(...)

The persona now succumbs to fear, which slowly invades her whole body. The caesura that isolates the phrase “to fear” emphasises its power. The assonance between “shield” and “yield” helps us perceive the relationship between the two terms. As there is no mental shield, the whole body yields to dread. The profusion of caesuras accompanies the slow pace of the process and the alliteration of “h” emphasises the idea of wholeness: it is the entire body that is seized by fear.

            

            (...) Bed, ward, window begin
To lose their solidity.(...)

The phrase  “to lose their solidity”, suggests that everything is getting blurry, as the persona is losing consciousness, or possibly making reference to the effect of the sedative she is being given.

                                   (...) Faces no longer
Look kind or needed; (...)

The word “faces” is a synecdoche for the people that surround her. As she is lying, she perceives them as faces. Now, any social contact is bothersome for her: it is either a menace or an unnecessary burden.

       (...)  yet I still fight the stronger
Terror – oblivion – the needle thrusts in.

Still, the persona´s worst fear is forgetting, probably because that would mean stopping  being herself, or even stopping being human. She is invaded by fear but she would rather be tormented by it than feel nothing at all.  

Tomás Casarino- Augusto Muslera