Chapter 8: Waking Up In The Wrong World.
When I wake up I am in the wrong world.
Instead of seeing white clouds or whatever you see when you die.
I see the bright lights of a hospital.
I am surrounded by white.
Everything is white:
The lights,
my gown,
my bandages,
my blankets,
my machine.
The white is painful to look at.
They say I lost a lot of blood.
That I'm stuck in the hospital longer.
I should be in the morgue.
I belong there.
Not in this bed.
She saved me.
She really shouldn't have.
It was a waste.
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PoetryShe was perfect. Well what everyone else saw was perfect. What they did not see was not so perfect. The depression, the jagged scars on her burning wrists and thighs, the tears she wept at night after the fights, the bruises left on her body by her...
