Overdose Twenty four, Or twenty three, Either way, He's too young, Are you sure you're ok in here? I mean, He's about your age, Isn't he? Too young, Ladies and gentlemen, The boy who cried meow, And never spoke again, Poor thing, I can't believe it's still legal, Although that'll change, Soon enough, Brain damage, Vegetative, Comatose, Key words for the leaflets and posters and newscasts, That this will spawn, Cover your eyes, Tell his parents, And hope you never see anything like this again.

I'm Sorry For Your Loss Check. That look, Stop it. You know exactly what's just happened, So stop with the sympathetic little faces, Speaking in hushed voices, Speak up, Scream at me, Give what I'm feeling inside a voice, Because none of you know. My wife, A corpse, My wife, Dead, One minute she's there, We're discussing what we'll do when she comes home, And then she's gone, Movement, Slow motion, A window is opened, A bible placed on a table, She was never religious, So leave me in peace, nurse, For you know nothing about how I feel. Check. On the contrary, I know better than any, How you feel, You smile sadly, Yet internally, Scream with anguish, You don't trust your lungs, To keep the beast at bay, Breathing is shallow, Precaution, Not shock. It's funny, People assume nurses are just, These good spirits, Whom nothing bad ever happens to, We just float around, Hand out tablets, Smile and sympathise. No, I wish. I've gripped the wrist of death, Felt as the shadow prised #life from my hands, Ripped them from this world, As the pulse fades, We're trained, You see, To spot the signs, Alarm bells, Danger signs, Indication, That there is an appearance to be kept up, Close the door, Smile to everyone, And cover over the horror within, So we gather the only weapons we can, A table cloth, A bible, Drawn curtains, Open window, Sign that reads, Do Not Enter, She may not have been, But some people are religious, I may not have known your wife, Sir, But I know exactly how you feel, Check. You may have seen death, Nurse, But have you felt it? Was it one of your own, Somebody you loved, Who's pulse escaped you? It's easy enough to know, When it's a stranger's hand you're holding, That death surrounds them, But how do you tell yourself, That your own, Your family, Is never coming back? How do you make that decision? Tell yourself that they're gone? I promise, If it was your own, You'd never feel that pulse stop, It would become your own will, To keep it going, Clinging to #life, Yes, nurse, You may have grappled death, But you haven't watched #life crumble, Especially your own, Check. Another common misconception, Nurses are nurses, They are not people, They do not have problems of their own, They just listen to yours. Why do you think I am here, sir? What do you think brought me to this? Was it some whim? The dream of a young schoolgirl, Ribbon in hair, To grow up to work, In a shadow's playground? No. My son died when he was in his twenties, Did you know that? No. And neither did I. How to top the bleeding, I mean, For there was blood, Yes, Lots of it, It seemed to come from everywhere, He was screaming, But what for I'll never know, Choking. I knew he was going, And that I was powerless to help, I vowed not to be, Ever again, Knew that I must train, To prevent it. I found nursing, It has been good to me, Healed me, Something I never thought would happen, There's still a hole, Where he used to sit, Just as there is still a chair at my dinner table, Where he used to eat, Drink, Laugh, Live. I didn't feel his pulse stop, I watched it, It spewed from his neck, In tides of red gush, Until, No more, I even went to the morgue, Looked at him, They'd parted his hair wrong, I fixed it, He was so cold. So yes, sir, I have, Felt, Death, As you say, And I will feel it again, And again, And again, Just as we all will eventually, So keep up that appearance, Keep saying thank you, For everything I've done, Because I can see the cogs turning, I know that this conversation, Is playing out in your head too, Just smile sadly, Keep up your appearance. Game over, sir. Checkmate.

Part Of The Training That must be the smell they talk about, Death, It sits like a veil across a darkened room, A bible, A beacon of light, Death sits in the corner, Waiting with it's prize, To be whisked away, To a mortuary downstairs somewhere, Freezing, On a rainy day, Not wet, But enough to dampen, This man is not wearing trousers, We can change that, He's still here, Treat him as such, This is the last thing you can do for this patient, Why should you approach it any differently? Wrap in sheets, Make sure it's done neatly, Try and find an ironed one, You wouldn't want to meet your maker in creases, Or in pieces, Wrap tightly, Keep together, Tie the feet, Label appropriately, Call a porter, Shut all the doors, Bow your head and stay silent, How old was he? Eighty something, A good innings, But the Moses basket above him, That's sad, It's all sad, Poor chap, Bow your head, Wish him well.

...Bliss Confess, Sagittarius, Please, I need to hear you say it, Here, You say it, Because if I do, Then this plot will only get thicker and thicker, But I'm studying, Sagittarius, Training to be a nurse, A healer, Preparing for the wound, Because it's going to hurt, Sagittarius, It's going to hurt us both, I just wish you'd see that now, Or maybe you do, And you're not saying, Please don't, Ignorance is...

Quack Quack, Me, A duck in water, Squirrel in branches, Natural, Born to do this, Meant to be here, How dare you lecture the natural, Tell me I am unnatural, Try harder, Try harder, Like I could, Like I need to, Because that's your problem, Not enough faith, In your own natural, What you raised, How well it turned out, I know what I'm doing, So just trust me, Okay? There once was an ugly duckling, He found his feathers, And stayed afloat.