Grey Walls

I hate hospitals

I hate the scent, the colour, the food
The floor, the walls, the sullen looks on the faces, the doctors,

The grief; the one that seems to float in the air enveloping you in its dark embrace entering your lungs making a home in there and 

growing, with every minute you spend, growing, with every second you blink,
growing, with every breath you take.

It baffles me how the cold food I eat sitting here tastes like cement
And I can't stop thinking about how the taste would differ
Bursting with flavour in a cafe with chats and laughter in the air

Instead of the family that is crying next to me
And I know exactly why.

It breaks my heart, shatters all hope 

And the grief that is sitting inside my lungs

begs to come out of my eyes and consume me and 

I can't breathe

Or offer words of comfort
But how do you tell someone everything will be alright when you know it's a lie
My tongue seems to choke me, lifeless in my mouth.