I lay on my bed having a staring contest with my ceiling.
Every so often a touch of the storm outside seeps through
and slaps me in the face.
But I don't mind it.
It is a liquid antidote.
So strong it can create life,
or cause death,
and yet it can be so weak that this single drop could barely surpass a single sheet of paper.
I feel it roll down my nose,
leaving a moist trail behind.
It reminds me of the clear unknown liquid sitting in a syringe.
Being carried by a delicate nurse's hand,
as her patient is prepared.
The point is pressured until it
shatters through the patient's flesh.
For a split second they wonder what this sinister woman could really be injecting into such a
fragile human body.
Could it be something to freeze the heart,
poison the mind
or singe the soul.
That is the risk of life that all of you are wiling to take.
I am not one of you,
I am safe.
Safe in my room on my bed.
Thinking....
nothing more nothing less.
Away from the outside world.
I hear the storm ease ,
as I slip into unconsciousness.
No comments:
Post a Comment