A/N: Written for the Drabble Prompts Challenge on the AMF, #026 – brightness.
And some medical info, in pneumothorax the lung collapses and the cavity it usually occupies fills with air or fluid. That's what I'm referring to in the first stanza.
the brightness of hospital rooms
The hospital lights were always blinding those first few days
when his lungs had shrivelled up but hurt for air
and the rest of him just ached
for some relief
But now it was darker days that followed
the leaving pain: the echoes of other things,
other times he'd almost forgot.
He knows there's something important he's lost in there:
forgotten, but whatever it is, it's gone:
he'd put an end to it
(but he'd put an end to this as well
and yet, it still came back.)
