Darkness seeps over the walls,
slides across my mouth and
silences my wail. Inside the palm
of my hand lays a dead emergency button.
Broken and unplugged, the button drags
me down inside a pool of piss.
Squeeze tight. Squeeze tight.
Where do I put my pee?
No one to hear me, no where
to drain the neglected vessel.
I fantasize letting it all run down
my legs onto the clean sheets.
Relief sends a shiver up my body.
“Yes, do it,” a voice says. “Let it go.”
I stare down the pain of being full.
Focus on the steady contraction
of a bladder bulging into ferocity.
I call on my resolve and wait
through the night without a clock
to tell me how long I have lived.