In Regards To Waiting Rooms
muffled footsteps past closed doors
paper covers rip under me like
late autumn leaves outside
and the clock is so damn loud
stubbornly refusing to move its hands
a white lab coat swishes
across
my field of vision
and i
am tuning her out
her white coat
with deep pockets
release her white and pink hands
holding my white test results
prescribing me bottles upon bottles of
white pills
i can't breathe
my legs are soft underneath me
hand trembling on door knobs
and i am so
small
eyes averted from my reflection
in framed glass on the cavernous walls
each door pulled closed behind me
proclaims
good bye, good luck, good riddance
the car is cold
freshly dented
covered in bird shit
my chest heaves in an ugly sweater
shoving my head between my knees so
construction workers across the street
won't see
i am dying i am dying i am dying