As I wake from the hospital bed
I ask myself,
Am I dead?
did my suffering end?
No...what have I done to myself?

Looking down at my hands,
And seeing the bandages on my wrists,
I know I am still alive.
My hands become fists.
For the heavens I wanted to strive,

and start a new adventure.
One where there is a cure.
As I close my eyes,
I dream of clearer skies.

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