From a way too real experience.
HOSPITAL
I had a disease
So I became a disease
Something to be studied, eliminated.
I became a machine
a glass jar with a virus within.
They pierce me with needles
they take away my blood
the blood of my kin
the blood of my life.
They put in me a new liquid
slowly, drop by drop.
The neon light in the ceiling hurts my eyes
I wonder if there is a sun anymore
I wonder if I'll see it again.
I'm pierced again and left without knowing
I don't know myself.
I'm a machine. I have cables.
Nothing is human, not even the disease.
I'm carried on a chair. Machines have to be guided.
My gaze is fixed in front of me. I stare at the ceiling.
No thoughts in my brain. Liquids and pills make me work.
For a moment I want myself back.
But I forgot what it means.
No comments:
Post a Comment