What Hell's like

Marshmallow floors caress the ruined arcs of my feet

as I make my way across

to the place I was before.

I know they can see me,

read my thoughts,

dissect every inch of my memory.

You remember Dad, right? Tell me what happened. You’ll be alright. Our secret.

But I won’t let them.

She’s getting sicker, and sicker, Mary. We’re doing all we can.

My head lies on the pillows

as I’m standing, and they remind me of clouds

on a sunny day. I’ve always wanted to dip my hands in one

while laying on the prickly floor

outside of mother’s yard.

This was all her idea, I’ve convinced myself.

Oh, how I wish I could feel them.

But I’m hugging myself.

I’m always forcefully hugging myself

now-a-days.

So, tilting my dazed head, I breathe in their scent.

Wishing of sun, flowers, even rain,

I end-up with chlorine, medicine, tranquilizers.

The sheets take like s**t and the s****y food is just as worse.

It’s sour. Nothing like the sweet sun on my skin.

And the nurses are mean because they laugh as soon as they leave.

She’s crazy.

I yell, and yell, and yell but the sound is captured by the white lighting

and the walls that won’t let me die!

We’ll get the shot. She’s out of control.

And I’m sick of it.

I’m sick but they’re just as sick.

Stay still. This won’t hurt one bit. Shhh.

Sounds of my cries, fears, “No, stop” pleads

bounce all over this cube of hell disguised as heaven.

I’m not crazy, I swear it.

I’m only here on vacation.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

"I’m not crazy, I swear it.
I’m only here on vacation."

A very enjoyable read,...Bravo................