I lay there after surviving something I thought would **** me,
I’m burrowed deep into my own thoughts and every question I was asked seemed so personal,
I don’t want to be here, why is my soul worth saving?
I even laid there, numb while I was on a drip due to dehydration,
I even laid there numb, while my family cried,
I even laid there numb while the pills were slowly dissolving, shutting down my mind and organs,
Something I had hoped for,

For such a long time.

Why me, why did I survive?
I spent 8 ******* days and 7 ******* nights, surrounded by 4 white walls,
Every colour was so bright, almost as if it was proving to me that I, in fact did not have any light or colour in my life,
While the sombre walls couldn't of been any more empty,
My mind aimlessly wondered through the small crevasses in life, trying to find at least something worth living for,
I even laid in silence, the only time I made a sound,
Was when I was masked with a drug to put me out,
Something that I couldn't have been anymore ecstatic about, while I was being cut open,
Something that happened often, but without gas to numb the pain.

I didn't need numbing.

I woke up from surgery, in more pain than I endured,
Again I was surrounded by 4 white walls,
I shot up from my bed, to then be restrained back and injected with morphine,
I didn't understand why I needed so much numbing,
Couldn't they see?

The layers of my skin were so worn and torn, I couldn't feel a thing!
My heart was so broken and detriment I couldn't feel a thing!
My eyes were so tired, I couldn't see, I couldn't feel a thing!
My lungs were so bruised, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't feel a thing!

It was my last day, I was finally leaving,
I could finally feel something,
But all I could think about now,
Was morphine.