The Heart Of A Hospital Room by Alyssa Trivett

On a mix of lava squares
and half-broken wheels,
chemistry lab florescent

lighting shines down.
We sit and ponder our next move,
like a chess match.
Regarding the first time
in my life to make this decision,
and release your body

to the morgue,
or run into the parking lot

and scream?
Since I can't
car jumpstart your corpse.
I'm waiting for the punch line,
the inspirational quote,
a fleck of dust from the
hissing air unit to relay
something to me.
Instead, it's a punch in my rib cage,
bobblehead rattling my mind
into the next day.
I ran outside and
saw a small glimpse of light.
Said a quick prayer to
help me go back inside,
over and through
squeaky and creaking

automatic doors
I went.
Silence slithers.
Clear the area.
If only we could heal ourselves

Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to music, chirps down coffee, and scrawls lines on the back of gas station receipts. Her work has appeared recently at In Between Hangovers, The Penwood Review, and Apricity Magazine.