Things Ive Noticed After Getting out of the PsycWard
As i lay here in my broken bed in my tiny back bedroom i listen to night. I no longer hear the nurses talking at the desk or their footsteps in the hall. The click of the door as they slide it open to check the detoxing roomate. I cant hear Lee as he sings african lullabys to a panicing boy in the rec room thats pressed against my wall. I dont feel the gentle weight of the breathable hospital blankets or the soft texture of the freshly washed pillow cases. No. Instead i hear the annoying owl in the tree near my window and the clinking of my dogs tags on her chain collar. The loud snores my mom makes everytime she breaths that semds me into a panic when they stop so i stand in the hall till they start again. I feel the humid heat the sticks to me like my heavy plaid blanket. My blue sheet that folds in weird places because its to big. The scratchy texture of my stuffed dog maks that brings a childhood comfort. Here i lay. Missing the quiet and the structure of the pyscward contains. I miss the people who are like me and wanting to recover. I miss them. The people i spent 3 days with who hold a part of my heart. To Erin who was my friend and shoulder to lean. To andy who watched baseball with me and played connect 4. To Sam, i hope you breath easier. To zack, coke is a hard drug and i hope you find the solice you find in it in something worth while. And to ilene. You were my savior in there. The nurse who listened and made time. I wish i had more time to say thank you.
