The sting of a thousand bees,
Anticipation intensifying the pain,
The IV pushes in.
So necessary,
Yet so resented,
Medicine runs through my veins.
Traveling to my heart
It goes, so my wounds
Can finally heal.
The nurse seals the insertion site
And adhesive sticks,
Dry plastic irritating my skin.
I push through the pain
Past the irritation,
Straight to the heart as I heal.
Saline runs through,
Keeping me from dehydration
As the well of words springs forth.
The heparin lock fills my mouth
With pricks of metal
And the portal is clogged.
There is nothing
As I lay back against the sheets
Of my sterile hospital bed.
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