In hospital, it smells just like they say it will
and I don't like it.
There are faces
and looks
and glares,
They don't like me.
To them
I am a waste
a selfish
waste.
Or so it feels.
Each scar upon my arm
is like a beacon
for snide comments
for embarrassment.
The IV in my arm
seems undeserved.
The air I share with 'other' patients
seems undeserved.
In hospital, I am another gown
which doesn't quite fit,
I am a little plastic cup
with little plastic pills
in little pastel colours.
It fills me with pain
but numb pain,
it patches me up
then pushes me aside.
Whilst I am there I should be all better
but really I'm all worse.
Everyday I remember being 'In Hospital'
The corridors haunt my soul
The charcoal reeks in my memory.
I cry inside
because they kept me alive.
I cry
because I wanted to go.
I cry
because I'm glad I stayed.
I just wrote that, because I can't get it out of my mind.
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5 comments:
Hello....This so touches me.Thank you for sharing this
Linda
It is such an alien place, and Nurses and Doctors need to understand more about how it feels...
So sorry you have memories of this.
I'm glad you stayed too though, xx
Thank you Linda, hope you are well.
:) thanks Katie, I'm glad most days. If I ever do become I Nurse I vow to remember this poem, and how it feels. x
This is a sad and definitely touching poem. I have been there and you captured the place quite well. I'm glad you're here.
Thanks Charli. I'm sorry that you've been there too, but glad also that you are here now.
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