Sheets

Location

The sun went down,

but I'm still here.

   There's still a tube inside me.

      My dinner tray is in the sink.

         The whiteboard says my name.

The thermostat reads "55"--

that's something

I can choose.

But

my best friend died

right down the hall

wrapped up in sheets

like mine.

I want to leave,

but I cannot.

The moon

can't take my place.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741