Boy in a Hospital

Boy in a Hospital

I woke up empty—
left eye swollen shut
where they pulled
out my memory

A lady sits at my bedside
holding my hand
her eyes melting
under harsh fluorescents

Who is she— who am I
no longer a son or brother
I am alone on an island
surrounded by strange waters

Memories are the essential tethers
to the ones we love and mine were cut


For this week’s Living Poetry Prompt; inspired by a story I once heard. Hope he’s okay.

Unknown's avatar

About Bartholomew Barker

Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
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11 Responses to Boy in a Hospital

  1. JeanMarie's avatar JeanMarie says:

    Another creepy one! Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Some story there for sure. I love the first verse, it gives a surreal tint to the whole poem, leaving the reader willing to believe all manner of things happening there. Good ‘poeming’.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lisa Tomey-Zonneveld's avatar Lisa Tomey says:

    This is a brain twister, for sure. Well done.

    Liked by 2 people

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