One-hundred and Twenty-two: Remember

I suppose it’s time to try remember.
I’ve been throwing thoughts into
a room, eyes closed, I don’t know
what this is but it hurts, so in it goes.
I’ve been carrying the key around
in my pocket, pretending that an
avalanche of denial won’t crush
me when I finally decide to use it.

I remember
my skin trailing from my fingertips like silver ribbon,
the artificial banana taste of the tube in my throat,
laughing and saying, this is going to be really funny one day,
the pride at exhausting a vein and switching to the left,
the loss of appetite, the struggle to swallow, the irony,
the damn betadine baths, their metal scent and iron-red stains,
the constant nightly disruptions of nurses banging on lights,
the clusters of doctors every morning, too busy for questions,
suffering from severe nausea for three days and not being believed,
the days they scrubbed until I begged them to stop and then
feeling Saturday night all over again, all day long.

There is more to remember, but I think I’ll stop now.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

2 thoughts on “One-hundred and Twenty-two: Remember”

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