All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
when i think harmful, when i see harm.
i think disease. being shoved into a straight chair, your back crunching.
"give me your finger", they give you a pulse reading.
hand you two pills and non-filtered bacterial water, sighing.
and i sit there, you sit there, they all sit there.
feet tapping on the blue faded tiles but not for long.
as the gurney rushes by we all lift our feet and watch the person rush by with all the doctors surrounding.
you then notice you are the only one looking.
you're the only person in this little hallway, who doesnt witness this every morning, afternoon and evening.
even the falsetto lovers in the picture on the wall know what's happening.
so they stay wrapped in each other's arms.
they finally pushed you out of that stiff chair,
saying go home, take your mask.
so you did.
on the way out another gurney passes, the passenger strapped in tight.
this time you dont look, you stare straight ahead..
at the nurse, who told you to sit,
sit in the chair.
she's glancing at you, her eyebrows raised high on her head,
her cigarette smoke encircling her blonde head, her green eyes smoky.
what's there left to do?
maybe she should be thrown in the chair too.
the nurse, finally flicked her cigarette with her index finger
heading towards the bus stop.
she sat on the old bench, attempting to read the last article
on the elder man's New York Times beside her.
his face scrunching up at her, eyes narrowing he starts a slow walk to the bus.
david, her finance, runs out of the door when she arrives home.
behind him his luggage is getting drenched by the late night rain.
"where are you going, baby?"
"away, away from you, don't call me", david yells while throwing a wedding band at her with a picture.
a picture of tyler, tyler the doctor.
he's driving away, rounding the corner.
she kneels to the ground, her pantyhose absorbing the rain and tears quickly.
tyler hall. is being raced to the emergency room.
from, disease, nicotine and love.
he can nearly feel the lung cancer pounding in him.
from the late nights, with the nurses, with sandy.
pursing her lips, blowing her smoke at him, smiling seductively.
then it's sandy kissing tyler, his cheek, neck and lips.
and he's falling, oh, so hard.
sandy's kneeling in the rain, clutching her insides.
as tyler gets his removed.