The month I spent in the hospital was strange and dismal
The days seemed to blur into one long melancholia,
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired
My body was weak and so was my fight
The hospital's sterile smell and white walls began to feel like home

I remember the first time I saw myself, in that dark and depressing hospital bathroom
I caught my reflection in the mirror
Ashen skin, dark circles, protruding bones
Who was this girl?
I winced at the sight of her

I looked like I was dying, but then again, the doctors thought I was
What was happening to me? My body was betraying me and it showed
No wonder my mother had been looking at me like she had seen a ghost lately
With sorrow and fright filled eyes

I woke up one night to her sobs
I pretended not to hear, it was easier that way
I was so selfish then
Too wrapped up in my own misery to hear her cries

The days felt like years in there
Eventually the visitors and flowers stopped
But I didn't mind
I needed to clear my thoughts
And watching people try to hide their trepidation when they saw me for the first time was growing old

People never know what to say or do around a sick person
What do you say to someone who's dying?
Do you ask them how they are? You already know the answer
But you ask anyway, then they lie and say they're fine
Because "that's a stupid question" is an inappropriate response

I remember the day they said I could go home
Suddenly, I felt dysphoric
Why was I feeling this way? I hated it here
But in a twisted way I was going to miss it
Because sometimes, we find comfort in chaos