Hospital Visit No. 132

Jaded I can’t even get wasted, the brown bottle bin empty.

It’s the gas, the final plunge that I think about each and every night.  That infinite high that accompanies gross body trauma.

The welcoming words of the paramedic; the soft hue of the ambulance lights.

That Cheshire cat grin as I think I overdose on the self administered pain killer.

It is the all encompassing hug of the soft welcoming paws of hospital.  The knowledge that I have survived again, that the bone can break and the flesh part, but I remain.  I remain.

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