"Clear!"
No words are said
as I'm lying on this white sterile bed.
Oxygen is forced down my throat.
Needing to breathe; wanting to choke.
All of a sudden, my plummeting heart
skips a beat and fails to start.
All around me, all I hear:
voices shouting "STAT" and "CLEAR!"
And now a jolt that shakes my core,
like heavy waves that beat the shore...
Squeezing and shocking my feeble brain;
screaming on the verges of insane.
All is still now, like light rain—
I feel nothing; I feel no pain.
Now it's quiet; now it's black;
now my life, I do lack.
Where's the sound of my wheezing breath?
Have I reached predicted death?
Am I sinking far below?
Where the hell'd that word "clear" go?
© 1998 Koda Gallegos & Niki Artieschoufsky, All Rights Reserved
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