They say I've been here for three days
These young folk in white coats
Telling me that this is serious, but treatable
I have lived three even four of their lifetimes

Two weeks have past, I feel more pain
I have not felt grass or the sun since I walked through the doors of this horrid place
With the tile floors, white walls
Scrubs constantly walking through the halls

Beeping machines
Vegetables, con-artists, and bad misfortunes on good people
rest in cold rooms
on terrible beds

I couldn't pronounce the name of it
A strange elixir probably made in a lab
Some young coat said it will cure me
However the side effects are grueling

The white coat was right
I have lost all time and clarity
A state of consciousness no more
Sifting through this waist deep puzzle

Now I am floating, no longer stuck in my bed
No needles and machines surrounding me
Down below I see a beach
I know of this place

This moment is surreal, below is my brother and I
We are running on the sand
It is a warm August day
I will always remember this

Familiar faces surround me
Yet the room is so slow
These are my friends
“You'll pull through” they say

A bonfire in the woods
Beer and smokes in every adolescent hand
Attempts to fit in I walk around
Then I saw her, she was so beautiful

Why have the walls changed
The window no longer faces my right
I can now see the tops of the trees
“Intensive Care Unit” written on the door

Evening stroll with the girl from the party
The dress how could I forget about the dress

There is a tray of food in front of me
**** excuse of a meal
No familiar faces today, only white coats and needles pricking and poking
Another machine “This will help sir”

The saw mill, my first job
The sounds of the mill grow louder
Metal slicing wood, screaming and yelling in agony
Ear piercing pain

A new face in a chair, my daughter
She looks weary two three tissues in hand
A hug and a forehead kiss “to help pass the time”
Deck of cards presented on my lap, I forgot my love for them

The air is tense, my daughter yelling
New white coated men take her hand
She cries and the air thins
I cannot read their lips, she is her mother

Full suitcases and an empty room
Happy tears run down my mothers face
Acceptance letter hung on the fridge
“Proud of you son” the first and last time

Who's hands are these
Hands worn by time and the sun, such difficulty to form a fist
Texture of a tree, cut me open
Count the rings to know my age

On the stage receiving my master's
The hours spent studying
Sacrificed Friday nights deep in a textbook
This is my proudest moment

Satisfying an itch sudden pain
Down at my chest lies a new wound
Perhaps they took my soul
Destined to live as an ever growing bed sore

Rows of cubicles
The days of emails and brown nosing higher-ups
Late nights drowned in beer
Slowly drifting from my family

Oxygen mask around my mouth
Bored grandchildren begging parents to go home
Go ahead. Leave
Let me enjoy my final days alone

Beer bottles shattered across the floor
My family walking out the door
My demons caused my family to leave
I never saw the girl from the party again

In my dying moments I realized a truth
We spend our lives wanting more
Only to be kept alive in a pitiful state
Having friends and family surround your semi-lifeless corpse

I no longer wish to be imprisoned in this
Old, weak, and cancerous cadaver
I have become what I feared
Forever waiting for tomorrow’s applesauce

This time falling from high distance
Finally clarity, a want for freedom no more
Reflecting regrets and mistakes of the past no more
Suddenly stopping I awake in the white walls

In my final spring of energy I rose my arm
“On my own terms” I whisper and I begin to break my shackles
Fail safe alarms from my prison, no chance of survival
White coats rushing in. Wasted effort

and alas, eternal sleep