After Jose Hernandez Diaz
After my first psychotic episode, I turned into a common house broom. My long, sturdy handle
was made of previously loved wood, and sleeked into a bunch of fastened blonde crunchy yet
pliable corn husks. I swept the floors of all my neighbors, gathering up their stories, memories,
worries, and hopes, then reduced them into neat piles, and moved on to the next one. I never
discarded the piles of now-dirt; I wasn’t a dust pan after all. Dust pans are made from people
who have never learned to forgive. Mops, on the other hand, are made from chronic people-
pleasers. Everyone who experiences psychosis becomes a common house broom. We handle
what you wouldn’t dare to touch.