What is this obliterating wave of nothing that shakes my bones? A kind of self-righteous hate I have for this beating heart of mine. The heart that is mine in the chest of broken ribs and bruised lungs. I can't breathe and no one can see. A sort of silent film of black and white, standing in a room where people mill mindlessly around me. A sweet dose of pain to the bloodstream. Hand me another bottle of numbing and tasteless liquid. I don't know how to tell anyone what I feel and the whole sickening trauma of saying "I'm fine" over and over becomes so easy in the sense of doing nothing about anything.