Dec. 16, 2005

"Everything happened so fast and I cant recall
Tell me everything’s fine, tell me that she’s alright."-HOH


I walk into the white florescent reflecting floor, it rewinds and displays fast pacing and yelling and screaming and silence in pixels red.
My foot sliding past the grey streaks where the rubber fought the ground; panic.

Hotel chairs.

White coats that promise and claim and determine.
White walls.
White beds.
I create the vicious race behind my eyes and breathe in the cold, sterile air that proves you were here.

“Room 219.”

The door clicks, the machine raises your chest as your body complies gratefully in an up and down motion.
Your breath was announced by colored lights and noises.
The comforting fabric on the chair as I gripped it tight. Somehow an awkward silence, electric companion;

“it told me things about you.”

Nothing said no harm done.
You were my inanimate body.
I pretended a flashing, flickering light above your mind.
Fixed to prove your inner thought and constant dreaming.
I watched each parabola of your life on the monitors, glowing with memory.
A beam of noise proving you were seven and ten and three and one.
I pretended you heard me and I leaned close to ensure a calm voice.
I paused, slowly began and wiped my face so I would seem a big girl to you.
I left it in your head, so maybe if you woke up you wouldn’t forget.
I felt around the blanket to find it.

I starred at the freckles on your face like a map until my hand recognized the correct tube-like curves.

It didn’t give at first:

Disconnect.
Loud.
Repetitive.
Alarm.

I walked out, I passed the door frame like the air escaping your body.
I heard running, and screaming, and yelling.
I walked past the gray streaks where the rubber fought the ground.
I heard silence and a long drawn out note.

It told me things about you.