I tell bits and pieces of the story of what happened in the hospital days before I came home.
I was staring up the wall. It was all I could see.
With the Christmas tinsel and a slice of the exit.
I could see the people walking past, the ones that hadn’t been thrown into a chair in punishment for trying to escape.
I could feel tears in my eyes.
The hopelessness and fear overwhelming.
Let me go.
I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to go home.
The weakness of my body and the frailty of my my mind could keep me there.
I felt my arm pressed under me.
I was so cold.
I was as important as a piece of furniture. Pushed out of the way so I wouldn’t bother anyone working.
I want it to end.
I wish this was the only incident like this.
I would keep trying to get out of there to no success.
The chair I was stuck in too many times to count.
It did finally end.
I got away from there and part of fiery determination I have is to never feel that way again.
I will never stare at that wall again.