reading this today.
'Placebo'
'Here i am...lying next to my lover, in intensive care.
slipping in and out of consciousness in shifts.
Life slowly dripping out of us.
Only a fifty percent chance of surviving our injuries...
a twenty five percent chance we will ever speak again.
We have been in a terrible car crash...
and were brought to the same hospital where he works as a surgeon.
He has been sleeping all of the tine that I have been awake...
as he had been working the night shift.
I try to leave messages for him through the nurses...
but they keep changing faces.
Too many drips to be changed and bloods to be drawn...
and while I have been lying here perfectly still, unable to move ...
staring at the ceiling counting squares...
I have come to realize that I do not even know the person...
who I so badly want to survive.
As a mistress you fabricate the other persons life entirely in your imagination.
His descriptions have always been substitutes ...
for the absence of shared experiences.'