Unknown Interior

The nurse is tapping on a plastic board

where a little red cross is printed in the corner.

She asks the question I’ve always just ignored,

leaving me a stranger, or a mourner

for a self I haven’t bothered yet to meet.

I smell the alcohol, the sharp and sterile sting,

while people hurry down the hallway on their feet

and I don't know the most basic, vital thing.

It’s moving through me in a heavy, hidden tide,

Positive or Negative, a code I cannot crack.

I’m full of secrets locked away inside

and I have no way of ever giving them back.