I think about that place a lot
and the time I spent there
those three, excruciatingly
long days
and the things that lead me
to my stay.
life had finally pushed me
over the brink
and I took a few too many
pills one night,
a whole bottle, or two
trying to flush out
the demons
I always seemed to be
wrestling.
right before the high
set in
I began to panic
thinking of what my sister
would think of
if she saw me lying
dead and cold
on the floor
and I worried who might
find the body
since I was all alone
in that
apartment.
so I did the one thing
I wished no one would
upon swallowing...
I dialed those 3
numbers ingrained in each
American's brain.
I don't remember much
from that point on
except that I
went in an ambulance
at 3 in the morning
and I think I
remember feeling
sorry for the EMT's
because I was such a waste
not worth saving.
I think I remember my
doctor's face
and the soft coo of his
voice as he guided
my hand to
sign on the
dotted line.
I don't know if they
pumped my stomach
and I don't know
how they got me
from the
ER
to the psych ward
but I woke up
in strange clothes
in a strange bed
with a crying
roommate
and a cranky nurse
holding pills
in my face
that I couldn't
swallow
because I feared
I had no more
room in my
belly, not even
for one more.
And I stayed there for
3 days
but the one thing
I never told
a soul
was that those 3 days
were the most
serene days
I ever knew
tucked inside those
walls
with all the crazies
and their dolls
I am afraid to admit
it sort of felt
like home
and for once I
didn't feel so
alone...