Code Blue

(Everybody has a story. Some of them you just can't fathom. Or can you?)

A cold concrete floor inconspicuously laced with enraged demons of the past.
Unnameable insects that suck out the subtle spirit of hope out of your veins; invisible footprints of dying souls.
Souls lost to unconquerable drug use, vulgar alcoholism, insurmountable self-hate, a lost vision, or perhaps, a faith impeded by a man’s firm, determined fist.

This is it: The place where the hopeless complacently dwell and the faithless happily die.
This is their vision  manifesting; their easily attainable endeavor to be complacently trapped by these  cursed, fiercely judgmental walls listening to the ominous voices of a deterred mind conversing with itself. You hear it? Diligently talking back, holding a conversation of illusive and unabated delusion? 

These thin, uncaring walls harbor endless demons, unforgettable  skeletons, dreams sabotaged before your very eyes. Foes Un-forgiven. Murdered perhaps.

Women Lost determined to never be found.
Women with beautiful, strong minds  that are indefinitely and permanently misplaced.
They’re lost in the clouds or perhaps they  were simply  left at the place  of the mystery..
That one detrimental catastrophe that coerced them to kindly neglect the one thing they need to succeed: Their mind.

The air is thick with a tangible failure. Burdens. Self-Manipulation. Unfeasible beliefs. Stagnancy. And white drugs deceptively flowing up beautiful noses to the numb the sting of impregnable self-inflicted defeat of life itself.

Yes, I am here, breathing the same poisonous  air as these broken women with broken hope. These unbelievable  women who quickly forfeited life and dismissed chance. 

I close my eyes and see vividly that yes, I, myself am misplaced while lying here on an infested mat on a cold concrete floor, laced with hopeless dreams and invisible footprints of complacently dying souls.

This is Code Blue. Welcome.