This is a hospital. This is a friend. These are my eyes. This is me waking up. This is me taking my pills. This is me learning how to smile. This is me with insomnia. This is me, staying put.
This is a hospital. This is a friend. These are my red eyes. This goes on forever. These are old polaroids. These are dead flowers. This is time passing by. This is me, staying put.
These are my eyes. This is a friend. This is a hospital. This is me saying good bye. This is a friend not understanding. This is a friend crying. This is a friend leaving. This is me, staying put.
This is not a hospital. These are not my eyes. This is someone new. This is the part I killed. This is the part I left behind. This is the part I forgot. This is the part I ignored.
This is me at my funeral. This is me saying goodbye. This is me, confused. This is me, mad. This is me, drunk. This is me without a core. This is me without myself.
This is not an option. This is not a journey. This is not what I wanted.
This is a friend leaving.
This is me, staying put
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