Vitals
Doctor blinks, breath caught, face goes still.
“Oh,” he says, voice sharp, split.
Hands tremble near charts, numbers all wrong.
Room spins quiet, cold like a grave.
Chest tightens, heartbeat thuds, loud, slow.
How long have I lived this broken?
Sick laughs die. Fear lives in bone.
Copyright © Amanda Nolan | Year Posted 2025
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