to see you alive // flatsound
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We go to the clinic
to pick her up
in twenty four minutes.
Mrs. Fey
says that she's a lot better
than she once was.
She gained 9.7 kgs
in recovery,
putting her at a solid 45.4 kilograms.
I fiddle with the hem of my sweater nervously.
I'm scared.
Will she forgive me?
Will she realize
that I just wanted to do
what was best for her?
Twenty one minutes later,
we're at the front
of the inpatient clinic.
The nurse,
a large Polish woman,
greets us.
"You must be here to see Annaley?"
I fumble out something of a yes.
Mrs. Fey embraces me.
"Right this way."
I follow the nurse
down the hallway.
It's not placidly white
as I expected,
but instead
it's littered in artwork.
Stay strong.
I will prevail!
Love yourself.
There are no mirrors
in the rooms.
It smells like decent cafeteria food
and hairspray.
The nurse knocks twice
and then opens a door
with a printed picture of
a koala bear on it.
The room is empty
except a few suitcases,
her old teddy bear
and her.
She's wearing an over-sized shirt,
the one I gave her to sleep in
the last time
she was at my house.
She stands by the window,
hair piled on top of her head,
mouth slightly curved into a smile--
alive.
YOU ARE READING
twelve tracks
Poetry“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” ― Friedrich Nietzsche /// (c) mockingjayde 2013 (c) respective artists and musicians.
