i have made tea for one and turned off the lights.
it is tuesday morning, and the walls look the same
into my eyes as they looked yesterday into yours--

blind and cold, white and filthy.
the doctors have answers to their own questions.
i needed to see their families through the walls,
but neither they nor the walls needed to see me
better.

i am glad i am not alive to see this happening.

i have made tea for one and turned off the lights.
yesterday i noticed bugs in my garden. i will stop
tending it and start taking my medicine.

i cannot handle helping the bugs
in their beds. i cannot help myself
fertilize the world as it wonders
or see through these thick walls.

my hands are tied to my stomach, and i drink tea
through tubes alone in a room darker than the
universe (it has seen light in this lifetime; the walls
pulse as does my heart).