Being and Not Being
Betrayal can be so powerful. Not as powerful as me. I lay here in the land of white, the realm of the sterile and sanctified; I am not here. They discuss me a million miles away, four stories down, or by my head it matters not.
I am here; I am there. I am one; I am legion. I am trapped; I am set free. I am strapped to a bed and drained of life; I am over their tiny heads while they discuss me.
“You said this wouldn’t happen again!”
“Sir, please. There’s no way we could have known.”
“I don’t think you appreciate, realize…the whole house thrashed! The yard too! My, oh my, the neighbor’s dog for goodness’ sake.”
“There’s only so much…”
“She shouldn’t be able to do this. The pills, the pills…”
“We know. We’re stabilizing her now, calming her. We can make a new plan.”
“But the pills, they were supposed to help.”
“I know, but she…”
“But she didn’t take them.“
Why must the pain of this world blind me? Rob me? Leave me so forsaken? I am not of the white. I am the red.