Appendicitis

----------------

The air feels elastic,

the bed is a river.

And my lungs feel just like a balloon.

My fever is skittish,

and my face is a mask.

The monitors won't stop their beeping.

My tears burn like lava,

though my eyes are dry.

Though my have eyes have been dry for a while.

My body is aching,

and I need some rest.

The hospital is open for me.

You wrote me a letter,

asking how I feel.

And I replied with a sigh.

We tend to our sick and,

we care for the poor.

But we can't even care for ourselves.

Now the air may be thinning,

but my conscience is clear.

And I don't regret a thing.

Now that the air's thinning,

my consciousness slips.

The anesthesia is knocking me down.

I wake up days later,

unable to move.

My stomach is empty and churning.

I feel more sick,

than I did before.

Where are my friends now?