Harsh white light through icy windows.
Scratchy, rough couch fabric like a hair shirt on bare skin.
Bottle and pills scattered on floor.
Metallic taste.
Wet, salty tears.
Loud sobbing. Mine alone?
Hospital bed.
Beep, beep, beeping.
Restraints on wrists.
Hand holding mine.
I knew then that I would have to live.
Second childhood be…
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