The Cycle

I counted them from one to ten

And once again from ten to one

The little pills looked tempting then

I emptied them till there was none.

My fingers tapped against the floor

The rhythm of my slowing breath

My limbs were all directions sprawled

So leisurely visiting death.

Then suddenly, a pain shot through

My vision going round and round

A moon, a star, a planet blue

I fell unto the vast profound.

I woke up in an empty room

Where everything was dressed in white

The only yellow flower bloomed

Pathetically, through feeble light.

The place reeked of antiseptic

In a silence deafening

Sterility made my head thick

My fists then started tightening.

The scene so frequent my heart bent

Again, again, the cycle went.