A boy in a bed

He is lying down.
He is lying still in the hospital light.
Tethered to the bed.
Numb and overcome.
Thoughts ragged at midnight.

The smell of flesh stripped away sits
as his gothic companion.
A boy burning, running, leg
on fire, flight and terror.

Then trembling, wounded, in the
early winter night.
Blanketed.
Frozen.
Family crying and wondering
what to do.
Ambulance screaming in his head.

But now still at midnight.
Watching the flicker of the lights.
The boy beside him sobbing.
He too was burning and now
lies frozen, bandaged in his bed.

The midnight nurse red-eyed smiles.
The next shot, one of many.
Bandages seeping, discoloured–changed.
Pain beyond pain.
Whimpering.
Fast breath.

But no sleep as midnight lights flicker.
Flashes instead of leg burning,
flesh hanging, shock and dismay on faces.
All tethered to the bed.
Alone in the bed.

A boy in a bed.

 

17/2/2018

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