even though i'm not contagious, i've been isolated from the world.
i can't sleep and i'm afraid of the dark
--of remembering and not knowing.
all i can do is lay around,
which would be fine any other day, but not whlile i'm out of commission.
i can't even move a table. a table. i can hear it laughing at me.
i've had nurses bathe me.
had several probing needles- bring my worse fears to reality.
drilling my veins for samples.
i feel drained. i feel helpless. i feel alone.
i have mini-anxiety attacks when riding in cars.
everyone is too close. the lanes are too small.
it's the unknowing.
people constantly say it could have been worse-
as if i didn't know.
as if they were the ones coming to conciousness with a hand full of blood.
as if they saw the ghoustly white that painted the inside of the ambulance.
as if they know any clue what it feels like being next to a dying young man.
a mourning family entering.
or have their mother too weak to look at them.
to be placed inside machines.
being scanned and probed. not knowing.
being told not to move.
to want to remember. to want to know.
and to never want to remember and never want to know.
sit in the driver's seat. questioning the world.
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