It's weird to look at life from this view
Atop the 12 story building
I sit in my bed armed with alarms and padded with pillows
While I stare out the slightly dusty windows splattered with bird droppings
Here I sit
And can see the very tops of the trees
Swaying back and forth in the breeze
I can hear the pages over the intercom for doctors and emergency services
And the tapping of the soles of nurses as they run
From room to room
To deliver meds
Administer shots
And heal the hearts of loved ones who now mourn
Here I sit
Unhappy
With the visits I received
Flowers I got
While connected to monitors
And being spied on by the camera connected to the machine recording
My brain's activity
Unhappy that I am
Missing out on the life I
Once lived
I sit here and ask over and over
Why?
But, why not?
What makes me so different
Than the person who coded in the room next to mine the previous day
And was wheeled down to the morgue just hours later?
So here I sit
In the same bed
Days later
Happy
To be alive
Being able to see, hear, and walk
Though not very far
I do it on my own
I eat using my own hands
And am hydrated by a paper cup filled with ice cold water
Not by fluids running
Through the IV placed in one of
The veins in my right arm
Here I sit
Counting my blessings