The bangs of my head felt somewhat hollow against the cold hospital walls, for some odd reason, everything feels cold here.
The cold grasp of the nurses hands as she tried to comfort me back to sanity. But dear God, what IS sanity in it’s most organic form? Is it like the flowers I arranged in my room last Tuesday? Slowly falling from a beautiful bunch into a dying state? The way they fall into a slump, I think, is the way sanity slips through my fingertips.
It’s cold in here, and I’m afraid my mind has gone cold too, It’s summer after all, but I’m afraid some summers just pretend and only warm the air. And I’ve lost it; the air, I’m in shambles trying to catch a breath, trying to catch a break, but this cold air has swallowed me whole. I don’t know who I am anymore. But I’m scared.