|
| |
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
|
|