I.C.U.
Lines, tubes, wires, chains.
Dignity stripped, cavities drained.
The metronome of your pulse above
the beeping orchestra, dissonant buzz.
Eachย gesture tracked, beat recorded,
breathing measured, lifeย distorted.
Do you still feel free?
Theย body, its function a masterpiece to muse,
altered by poison, fluidย infused.
Vesicles, vessels, organs affixed,
shroudedย in blood, lymph intermixed.
Adhered inย onenessย by tendon and skin,
scarcely quickenedย by a pump grownย dim.
Do you still feel strong?
Risen before the dawning sun,
aย swarm of stoic white has come
to declare theย statusย of yourย issues–
Liver, kidney, heart, lung, tissue.
To examine and prod, inspectย thenย move
a person, a soul, or a number to improve?
I hope you still feel human.

