The sun went down,

but I'm still here.

   There's still a tube inside me.

      My dinner tray is in the sink.

         The whiteboard says my name.

The thermostat reads "55"--

that's something

I can choose.


my best friend died

right down the hall

wrapped up in sheets

like mine.

I want to leave,

but I cannot.

The moon

can't take my place.


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