Watching the Lights

Watching the Lights

This poem speaks to my experience for months at the multiple hospitals I was in.  Laying prone in my bed, limited mobility left me staring at the ceiling, specifically, the lights in the ceiling. Only to be interrupted by nurses, doctors, techs, the people who cleaned the room, etc.  Day or night (not that I always knew which was which), they would come, turning on the lights then poking, prodding me.

Watching the lights on the ceiling
Seeing the patterns between them
Changing without any meaning
Watching the lights on the ceiling

Watching the shadows spread this way and that
Darkness leaves little to see
Lights chase the shadows brings sounds to the silence
Darkness is where I should be

Watching the lights on the ceiling
Ignoring the noises beside me
Leaving the moment behind
Watching the lights on the ceiling

Resting alone in the past
Living without leaving the night
Waking to life as I know it
Watching the lights on the ceiling

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