I stare into the facade of the hospital,
and I stub out my cigarette with my rubber soles.
I enter and the air is sterile and the scent of death slowly emerges from the poor souls.
I look around and I see limp bodies in wheelchairs and skinny frames sat on chairs and I suddenly feel out of context, as if I'm an ant who walked into a termite colony.
I find myself in a situation where children are weaving through doctors and nurses trying to make the most of their time.
The window is cracked, and the fish is dead.
The paint worn away and a splatter of blood on the floor underneath my seat.
"Where did my brother go?" A young child asks me.
I suddenly feel clueless with an empty feeling inside yearning to be nurtured. My eyes water and I simply reply,
"I do not know"