This time last year,
I was in a coma,
I was dead to the world.
I wasn't alive.
All I could hear were the plastic sheets.
I thought I was a project.
I thought I was a project of tubes.
I wondered if I was alive.
This time last year,
I was in a coma,
Dying.
Leaving the world.
It wasn't terrifying.
It was a release.
To fly across ceilings,
With no movement.
Even my breathing was controlled by bags and concertina air,
I thought that life was white.
Like music.
I went into different places.
I went up into the sky.
I saw everything in white.
A New Year,
Or a New Year,
Or a New Year,
Or just:
Wake up
Wake up
Don't sleep forever.
