Room 20: Emergency Room

She is lying there,
Barely breathing
With a heart barely beating enough
To keep her alive.
All the tubes, wires, and prayers
Are fueling her soul to hold on.
"Please, don't leave us."
And then,
The sound they've all been dreading.
The endless beeping echo of death
Resounding in a room full of
Regret, anger, and relief.
"She's in a better place now."

Room 22: Stroke

He keeps on saying
He feels better
Ready to go home
100%!
All the while,
His wife's patience is dwindling.
"I'm all he's got now.
I can't leave him."
They're 70 years old,
Married for 45.
45 years and a ruptured artery
A plaque on his heart
And a boxful of God-knows-what drugs
She still holds his hand
Even when her own heart
Is heavy.

Room 24: Cancer

Maria went through three cycles in past the months
Three excruciating cycles of chemotherapy
They tell you the anti-emetics will reduce the side effects.
When you're 65-years old
And all alone,
And cancer is swimming in your veins,
What else do you hold on to?
These are the side effects:
You lie awake at night
Wishing you lived a better life
Wishing you didn't shut everyone out
You should've married
You should've spent more time living
Instead of merely surviving
"You're a survivor."
But what good is surviving when pain comes with it--
The type of pain
No medication
Can take away?

Room 25: Beauty

I am a mother of two.
A boy and girl.
Beautiful
Is what they call me.
I'm looking at my daughter,
And..
And if only I accepted her,
For what she was
For what she wasn't
Then we wouldn't be here.
Tragic
Defiled.
I took her to the Dermatologist
To fix what wasn't broken
She injected her with chemicals
That would heal her
But a horrible allergic reaction ensued.
I should've seen how
Beautiful my baby was.

Room 26: Prostate

Everybody loves him.
Even all his 20 kids
Whose mothers he can barely memorize.
I honestly don't know how many wives he has.
I don't even know how many
He has actually married.
All I know is this:
I am his current wife.
At 71,
His body doesn't work right
anymore.
At 31,
I have needs
He could no longer meet.
But I love him.

Room 27: Not For Admission**

I am dark & desolate
I am hungry
For souls that need shelter
And tears that need hiding
I've seen enough deaths to even care how I'd look.
My paint is almost drying up,
My walls are almost ready
I can't wait for the next story.