Exposed

Sitting in silence, this gown feels so bare,

its scratch on my skin, like a truth laid to share.

Cold table beneath me, the air thick with dread,

a waiting room hum, where fears go unsaid.

I pull at the ties, a soft, tethered shame,

vulnerable moments, each breath feels the same.

In this sterile embrace, I’m stripped to the bone,

a canvas for healing, yet feeling alone.