It was on hospital stay #4 or #5 that they gave me the suite, I don't know why. //I'm lying the gurney, rolling towardsheaven: theroom with a view,, , it'snot quite ideal but
it's something to do.
Personal mystery diagnosis ,,painedin my gut, behind my ribs & in the brain. Headache'd or insane.
I'm sick, quiet, undressed. My hair is a mess. What's
it like bleeding? Oh, I would know. What's being
non-sense? In love with the world. So hard, I
hold on & get fear to let go. My heart's twitch twitch
lub dub gives away the desire I know.
To live!
What else but just pain? "I'm glad that you came." I say to him softly from the
bed that I lay. //His is a cot.
When they come for my blood, the nurses wake us both up.
About the Creator
Amber Renee
Visceral. Poetic. Often translucent.
Miserable. Hopeful. Lover of all things Carl Jung.
@ amberreneepoetry
For a good scare, enjoy my nightmares.
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📢 Raise Your Voice Thread: 04/25/2024
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By Raise Your Voice by Vocala day ago in Resources
The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Authorabout 14 hours ago in Fiction
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