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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I awake in the early morning darkness frozen, motionless, immobilized, my eyes straining to see into the black void looking for any sign of my keepers, listening for any kind of movement Phantom-like images dart around me slowly, multiple images spring from every direction My heart racing, breathing rapid and shallow, figments of fear and my imagination running amok in the dark My eyes focus on tiny lights incessantly blinking reassuring my heart as the phantoms vanish My ears register the intermittent beeps and steady, determined droning of contraptions that populate my space their sole purpose to prevent the outcome I crave My nose catches whiffs of iodoform odor penetrating, pungent, overwhelming A cruel replacement for what once was a weekly parade of fragrant flowers that excited what few senses remain The brightly colored blossoms, the sweet, fragrant smells the delightful sizes and shapes But the beautiful flowers have withered, as concern for my plight has waned I watch as the sun, determined, dynamic, deliberately dilutes the darkness, revealing the amazing birth of a new day Is that delightful birdsong I hear? The beeping and droning are maddening, but there's birdsong outside my window I can’t wait until the moment arrives! As if on cue my keeper appears busily going about her assigned tasks. My eyes following her every move “And how are you doing today?” she asks, staring at me as if I could answer. But I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized, as my mind replays its silent reply: "My existence is a never-ending cycle of Penetrating ... pungent ... whiffs Beep ... blink ...drone ... beep Blink ... drone ... beep ... blink Drone ... beep ... blink ... drone Penetrating ... pungent ... whiffs Dawn ... daylight ... twilight ... night Daylight ... twilight ... night ... dawn Twilight ... night ... dawn ... daylight Night ... dawn ... daylight ... twilight Penetrating ... pungent ... whiffs Each boring minute an hour Each hateful hour a day Each wretched day a year Each torturous year a lifetime Ad nauseum ... ad infinitum ... ad mortem?" Offering no response to my unspoken thoughts My keeper dutifully takes my vital signs— temperature, pulse, respiration, blood pressure— records the results, then walks to the window. My favorite time of day has arrived! “Let's open the window to freshen up your room” As the window opens my spirit soars, and my ears capture the lovely birdsong, as well as other living sounds, along with a veritable potpourri of smells I can only imagine what is happening outside, and I do imagine it as best I can I close my eyes and try to make out each note, visualizing the source of each incredible sound, be it bird, animal, human, or otherwise, what they are, what they look like, what they’re doing, what they’re thinking, the beeping and droning finally drowned out! With every breath, I savor each smell. With my eyes still closed, as I visualize what’s happening in my mind’s eye, a wonderful peace envelops me, comforts me. But, alas, this day will be crueler than most Another, newer keeper enters my room “Oh, she’s fallen asleep” he whispers He closes the window, pulls down the shades, then quietly leaves, softly shutting the door. I SCREAM A LONG, LOUD, PRIMAL SCREAM! ... in my mind, as I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized— Paralyzed
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