Grey eyes and crooked smiles
fill the countless rooms.
Halls curve around
like an endless labyrinth.
Two beds to each,
one next to the door,
the other next to the window.
I am next to the door.
An easy escape,
right?

Locked doors,
and bulletproof windows
bolted shut,
doctors everywhere.
We are nothing but prisoners.

Corpses roam the halls.
Their empty eyes scanning
the new faces.
Every once in awhile
there will be a glowing corpse.
They light the dark rooms.
A crooked smile plays at the lips
of the empty corpses
when a glowing one enters the room.
They bring out the sparkle in the others.
Soon, a smile on every face,
and soft laughter fills the room.
But soon the smiles fade
as counsellors teach us how to
“manage our emotions”
or “positive coping skills.”

We choke down
bland, foul smelling hamburgers,
Tasteless lemonade,
and half-cooked french fries.
Forced to eat every bit,
and scolded by nurses if we dared
to return any of the filth.

“Take your meds”
The doctors chant,
forcing the pills down our throats.
“It’s all for the best”
he says patting my shoulder
with a warm hand
and comforting smile
and I feel like I am
filled with sunshine.

The corpses single file like ants
out of their rooms
and into the hall.
A nurse leads us
down the hall
and into a small room
where chairs are in
a circle against the walls.
We each take a seat,
and listen to each other as
we pour out our past
for everyone to examine.
Did you drink?
Did you cut?
Overdose?
Jump?
Lie?
You’re here for a reason,
What is it?!

What we did,
we did out of fear,
not out of insanity.
In the moments of interrogation,
there’s also understanding,
comfort,
and, for once,
a little bit of hope.
Empty eyes and heavy chests are lightened.
Everyone’s hearts begin to glow,
and life slowly begins to return.