it smells of vomit
and cleaning products
red chairs packed together
like in a theatre
but the drama is only
unfolding in my head
today
no stage
for actors
to faint on
or cry on
or die on
just
the smell of vomit
sliding doors
a splash of depression
mixed with human decay
bodies decomposing
in a brightly painted room
what a show
i think
as i try digging
deep within myself
for that spark
they told me
to cradle
and hold on to
