Hospital rooms and that sort
Do you know what it's like to feel locked up and wish that the visible silver gate disappears right in front of you and lets you feel the world and panes of buildings?
Laying down in a four-walled room with a few bends and corners,
orange walls and big tv's,
big glass windows that show the river in the daylight and the holiday lights at night,
one blue couch for a wore down mom,
two patterned chairs for one who can't sit,
a red call for help button everywhere you go,
a mirror in a hotel-sized bathroom--
reflects your weakness and portrays your every
bone
They show...
That you'll never be free,
That you'll always be lived by prayers and controlled by God
Did you know that staying here in a rehabilitation center feels like I'm somewhere far away, in a dream where I have escaped my reality?
Outside where the world is dark,
I thought that was the only place but here too,
even in a caring center and a place where people get admitted to get better,
it's all the same.
Everyone lives through troubles and goes through them.
Is it possible to feel the most love here?
But I'm sure that's not the case,
people are everywhere and hold signs of get betters.
Limited and restricted places and doors,
rooms of numbers and people,
aromas of different cultures all gathered here but I find one culture more dominant right now
Could it be that I was so naive in how the other people who were so sick doing?
But now that I'm experiencing it too,
I've realized I'm only lived and protected by prayers and without them, I would be nowhere.
I've realized that I'm fragile and not in the same condition that I was before
I've realized that life is not what it seems and it twists and turns and makes it sometimes seem so hard to go on
But you know, they tell me it will all get better
and I just hope they're right.
___________________________________________________________________________
Footnotes
Just came back from the hospital for the second time - its been a month
-"Buzzcut Season" by Lorde
11.13.21
YOU ARE READING
When the Night falls | A collective of poems
PoetryBeing an ordinary human is not so ordinary when you have lots of pitfalls in your life especially with the fact that you have a chronic illness. But, my life is still ordinary, I guess. Constant nagging of my siblings. Constant overprotective of my...
