that day

 

I walked out to the balcony
and fell,
to my knees, reaching,

the swirling trees

woke later,
              struggling, in the dark, the
beep-beep-beep,
familiar prick of needles in bent arms,
the struggle of eyelids

mark leaned over,
                    angry,
said, do you know why you are here?

and I know, I am donating plasma, so cold, watching
Shrek play over and over again, I know there is a woman
with flowers trying to get through the wall,
know, I can’t breathe, I pull snot up, up, up
from my stomach through my nose in a rope, flinging
ash into the blanketed dark

and he held my wrist to the bed, demanded the beeping stop,
whispered, you died, you died,
you have to drink this now, weight of gray scales,
you have to participate
in your own
life