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I See Through Your EyesHushed cries seep under the doors and through the walls in the ward,
as souls slip into a slow decay.
I don't belong here, wandering these halls.
The sick drift like lost ghosts with limp hands outstretched,
searching for meaning in their charts
and the strange language of the nurses.
hospitals are just pretty morgues.
You used to make me smile, but there's nothing to smile about in here.
there's only sadness and a sorrow
that creeps into the shape of my bones.
I don't want to live like this.
I don't want to be alone.
There is nothing here.
voices whisper through the darkness for my name,
and I am powerless.
above myself, I float, and stare down into the emptiness,
watching the black holes move under my skin.
my bones feel small, and I slip away,
down into the roots that hold the earth to me.
There's nothing to do, in all this silence, and I wear it so well.
I drink cold cups of tea, and speak above the static words of the other patients.
I eat plastic food with silver spoo
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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