Hospital Gowns

Hold my hand, I don't know if I can take it,
not on my own, at least. I really could use
that comforting squeeze, as the needle sinks
deep into me.

Open the door; let me out of this place,
please. I want to go home. I want to go
home. I just want to go.

Sick of hearing my own sad story, repeating
things I never truly remembered in the first
place. I have no words left. Figure it out
yourself.

Peaceful seclusion sounds so inviting, as all
these white lab coats crowd around me,
stroking, pressing, and prodding. Please don't
lay another hand on me. I think I'll
just close my eyes, but I cannot sleep.

Incredible how dreadfully special I am. A
mystery. An experiment. What is the point of
all of this?

Tell me, will you be the one to help me, sir?
will you be different, miss? What did you say
*your* specialty is?

Alls I do is lay there, feeling the pain,
embarrassment, wrapped in insecurity,
muttering a few "You're welcomes," and
wincing a smile in courtesy.

Let me go home now, I beg of you, I am
exhausted, already. I know, pitiful. Who I
am. Who am I? I am who? Confused, again.

*

God, can You hear me now? Are Your mighty
ears too filled with wax?

Oh Lord, what are trying to say? Are you even
real?

When will this nightmare be over? When will
this problem come close to solved?

Nearly unbearable, yet I live on. I live on. I.
live. on.

So worry not, m'loves, I am all right. I shall
survive, and even attempt to thrive in this one-
time life of mine.