white coats milked my tears
like venom from an asp
those terrible drones
working late at night
took delight
in my kicking and screaming
i tried to bite them
when they changed my dressings
like a straight jacket
that did not fit right
my arms would go numb
wrapped in a self embrace
of bloody gauze
that did not comfort me by any means
they ripped my scabs off
as if they were tearing open birthday presents
"we have to debride the wounds"
fuck yeah you do
morphine in my brain
felt so hard
so heavy
but how?
it made no sense to me
my tongue oozed with thick words
that i am sure plugged their ears
syrupy sentences
full of apologies not meant for them to hear anyway
fucking cuckoo clock on the wall
seemed ironic
maybe it was funny to them
or just cruel
i don't know anymore
i may have imagined it
in the plunger full of haze
that melted reality just enough to make me wonder
they were cruel at first
they knew what happened
those white shoed women
who floated by on clouds of prescription pads
inking out the night's emotional state
on crisp paper and small vials
that poured a blanket over my pain
while they pulled the bedsheets up harder than necessary
there's no room for any decimal points
to be in the wrong place
or broken syringes in flattened veins
some days i felt like Schrodinger's cat
hoping someone would open the box
untie me
let me out
and declare "she's alive"
then wrap their arms around my broken frame
while they put all the pieces neatly back together
i wondered if my face was real back then
it looked so far away in every mirror that passed my room
i begged someone
to please fetch me a book
i needed words
so tired of reading lines in my forehead
like braille
hoping they would somehow be different
every morning i awoke
tied to my bed
through a hole in my leg
