here

cool table, sterile and hard, holding me
exposed, vulnerable, afraid, alone.
white tiles patterned with a million holes.
machines hum a constant numbing buzz.
feeling the tears inside that never come;
knowing all will turn out well
despite the now. i am here.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.