he walked into the clinic, hands shaking.
he approached the receptionists desk.
“yes, im, erm…here for my, uhh…” he stuttered, keeping his voice low.
“test results?” the receptionist finished in a bored voice.
gargantuan statues to flesh must be excised from my face. they have grown for years, no one knows where they came from, but they come back again and again. stealing the life from my flesh and taking my sanity and vanity away with it…
i knew we had to go, but i resisted as long as I could. we’d be there all day, and a day is a long time to spend killing your unborn. these things should be thought over, not just digested in a second over the morning frappe. but that was her wish, and that became mine. never will we know what we missed by going to the clinic that day…
As I walked in, I knew that I would never come out. At least it seemed that way… all the people, just waiting, and waiting, and coughing, and spewing, and waiting some more. Yep, my life was about to end, then and there.
One time I had a friend who had to go to a free clinic to see if she was pregnant. She found out that she was and she had a baby named Alecktra. I haven’t spoken to her in like 6 years. It’s kind of funny.
The office smelled faintly like formaldhyde. He thoguht the doctor was strange man to begin with. Now with the smell of formaldhyde the clinic seemed more demented.
Ironic, I’m a physical therapy student that is going to go work in a clinic. I’m actually kind of scared. It’s one thing to sit in a classroom and learn about treating people, but to actually go out and do it knowing that I have an impact on people’s lives for better or worse is scary.
I’ll never forget that day for as long as I live. The thinking process leading up to it. The minute to minute details of what occurred. Not what was said, I’ll never remember the words. I’ll remember the actions. And I’ll wonder if what I did was right. I don’t regret. I just wonder.
Clinic help
that’s what they call it
when you walk in
and say Hi I’m a Name and a Label
they’re all names and labels
there are lots of them
those clinic helpers
but none for what I need
no clinic for a broken heart
there should be one
we could hide
behind the names and labels…
at the clinic the clock on the wall slowly chimed. the silence was screaming as the people sat in thier angony either obvious or compleetly discreet. i desperatly wanted to know why, why they were there, what thier problems were, what thier life was for, what they loved, hated, needed, wanted. everything, about these strangers
o mundo precisa de uma clinica, pra tratar todas nossas podridões, mas é impossivel, nosso cerebro é muito complexo, cheio de labirintos, e estamos ficando malucos!
Places to heal. A warm fun place. Whitewashed ceilings. Calm. Nostalgic. INSANE!!!!!!! Where is everyone? O_O i cant seem to understand……….white everywhere. (Why cant they make it sea blue or something). Puppies!!! :D Lolololololololololololollllllollllllllllll
the clinic smelled bad. Tasted bad too. Most people should not know this, but I do; don’t ask me to tell you why. It looked brand new and archaic at the same time.
She stood there in shock, staring at the sterile building in front of her. She knew she had to go in. She had to get tested. The broken girl had to know if she was sick, if he’d infected her.
Yet she couldn’t move. The clinic was too scary, too sterile. Her nightmare was too alive. This was never part of the plan.
I strod past the busy nurses and doctors tending to their sick. The place was overflowing with people. After the bombs had fallen to the Earth, every thing had been thrown out of balance. Dirt stained my face while tears made fresh streaks down my cheeks. I pushed past people and shoved them aside until I made it to the end of the hall. There he was slumped over, the black hair stuck to his face. The sight made me come to my knees and time stopped.
The man anxiously stared at the closed door, waiting to be called in. He could hear screams of pain coming from within, the sounds of a woman being pushed to her limits. He heard his wife call for him and he pushed inside, barely ready to see what he saw. The newborn was screaming, loud wails breaking the clinic patrons ears. But the man only felt pride and picked up the baby, staring at the tuff of dark hair that was so obviously his.
and as i approached the clinic i knew that every moment after this i would ponder this instance of human living. i knew that forever and always i would know that i was responsible for the failure to exist of another human being. yet i was strangely put at ease by this notion… the thought of such responsibility far succeeded the thought of allowing it to exist.
doctors rushing
nurses screaming
IV IV
oh god he’s bleeding so bad
please someone get the morphine
silly hospital
foolishly fighting god
and mangled cars
protesting the dirty linen
and cramped spaces
please oh god someone
the IV
please the morphine
He’s bleeding.
I really hope Yan Tong would go into a clinic for those bossy princess.She is so bossy I would like to##### her in the face.Luckily for her,I`m her classmate.
he walked into the clinic, hands shaking.
he approached the receptionists desk.
“yes, im, erm…here for my, uhh…” he stuttered, keeping his voice low.
“test results?” the receptionist finished in a bored voice.
gargantuan statues to flesh must be excised from my face. they have grown for years, no one knows where they came from, but they come back again and again. stealing the life from my flesh and taking my sanity and vanity away with it…
i knew we had to go, but i resisted as long as I could. we’d be there all day, and a day is a long time to spend killing your unborn. these things should be thought over, not just digested in a second over the morning frappe. but that was her wish, and that became mine. never will we know what we missed by going to the clinic that day…
As I walked in, I knew that I would never come out. At least it seemed that way… all the people, just waiting, and waiting, and coughing, and spewing, and waiting some more. Yep, my life was about to end, then and there.
I went to the clinic. I was scared. That shouldn’t be there. Scabbed over….seeping.
In the waiting room, I found myself glancing at the other people.
One time I had a friend who had to go to a free clinic to see if she was pregnant. She found out that she was and she had a baby named Alecktra. I haven’t spoken to her in like 6 years. It’s kind of funny.
Hospital hours and tweezers,
suture, let’s put her back together
like a rag doll, patches of
hospital gowns and raggedy bills.
Swill the smell of sick around
your mouth, rotting teeth
That’s it.
Terminal thoughts, terminal
aging. Poor, for worse.
it was a clinical display. The saints crushed the Magpies.
Looking at the game it was as though the saints were having a training run and it was a clinic for the younger players
The office smelled faintly like formaldhyde. He thoguht the doctor was strange man to begin with. Now with the smell of formaldhyde the clinic seemed more demented.
Ironic, I’m a physical therapy student that is going to go work in a clinic. I’m actually kind of scared. It’s one thing to sit in a classroom and learn about treating people, but to actually go out and do it knowing that I have an impact on people’s lives for better or worse is scary.
I’ll never forget that day for as long as I live. The thinking process leading up to it. The minute to minute details of what occurred. Not what was said, I’ll never remember the words. I’ll remember the actions. And I’ll wonder if what I did was right. I don’t regret. I just wonder.
And I miss you. Deeply.
Clinic help
that’s what they call it
when you walk in
and say Hi I’m a Name and a Label
they’re all names and labels
there are lots of them
those clinic helpers
but none for what I need
no clinic for a broken heart
there should be one
we could hide
behind the names and labels…
at the clinic the clock on the wall slowly chimed. the silence was screaming as the people sat in thier angony either obvious or compleetly discreet. i desperatly wanted to know why, why they were there, what thier problems were, what thier life was for, what they loved, hated, needed, wanted. everything, about these strangers
o mundo precisa de uma clinica, pra tratar todas nossas podridões, mas é impossivel, nosso cerebro é muito complexo, cheio de labirintos, e estamos ficando malucos!
Places to heal. A warm fun place. Whitewashed ceilings. Calm. Nostalgic. INSANE!!!!!!! Where is everyone? O_O i cant seem to understand……….white everywhere. (Why cant they make it sea blue or something). Puppies!!! :D Lolololololololololololollllllollllllllllll
the clinic smelled bad. Tasted bad too. Most people should not know this, but I do; don’t ask me to tell you why. It looked brand new and archaic at the same time.
She stood there in shock, staring at the sterile building in front of her. She knew she had to go in. She had to get tested. The broken girl had to know if she was sick, if he’d infected her.
Yet she couldn’t move. The clinic was too scary, too sterile. Her nightmare was too alive. This was never part of the plan.
I strod past the busy nurses and doctors tending to their sick. The place was overflowing with people. After the bombs had fallen to the Earth, every thing had been thrown out of balance. Dirt stained my face while tears made fresh streaks down my cheeks. I pushed past people and shoved them aside until I made it to the end of the hall. There he was slumped over, the black hair stuck to his face. The sight made me come to my knees and time stopped.
The man anxiously stared at the closed door, waiting to be called in. He could hear screams of pain coming from within, the sounds of a woman being pushed to her limits. He heard his wife call for him and he pushed inside, barely ready to see what he saw. The newborn was screaming, loud wails breaking the clinic patrons ears. But the man only felt pride and picked up the baby, staring at the tuff of dark hair that was so obviously his.
and as i approached the clinic i knew that every moment after this i would ponder this instance of human living. i knew that forever and always i would know that i was responsible for the failure to exist of another human being. yet i was strangely put at ease by this notion… the thought of such responsibility far succeeded the thought of allowing it to exist.
doctors rushing
nurses screaming
IV IV
oh god he’s bleeding so bad
please someone get the morphine
silly hospital
foolishly fighting god
and mangled cars
protesting the dirty linen
and cramped spaces
please oh god someone
the IV
please the morphine
He’s bleeding.
I really hope Yan Tong would go into a clinic for those bossy princess.She is so bossy I would like to##### her in the face.Luckily for her,I`m her classmate.