(no subject)
This mans tragedy has made him a prisoner in his own body.
And it's not just tragedy, it's dementia, despair;
it's this hole I can see in each of his eyes,
where all the events that happen in this real world kind of just fall through.
It's loneliness in it's most crippling form, the kind that no amount of love,
or human contact, could ever mend.
The patient was plagued by violent nightmares, terrible, deeply troubling dreams,
which one night overflowed in to reality, and he murdered his wife, in his sleep.
These people were in love, deeply in love.
And it's that love filling those holes that I can now see behind his eyes.
And it's my job to try and fill those holes with something else.
But what? Hope? I can try to fill those holes with drugs, soothing words, but that's all.
I hope his wounds will heal in time, but right now, things aren't looking good.
And it's not just tragedy, it's dementia, despair;
it's this hole I can see in each of his eyes,
where all the events that happen in this real world kind of just fall through.
It's loneliness in it's most crippling form, the kind that no amount of love,
or human contact, could ever mend.
The patient was plagued by violent nightmares, terrible, deeply troubling dreams,
which one night overflowed in to reality, and he murdered his wife, in his sleep.
These people were in love, deeply in love.
And it's that love filling those holes that I can now see behind his eyes.
And it's my job to try and fill those holes with something else.
But what? Hope? I can try to fill those holes with drugs, soothing words, but that's all.
I hope his wounds will heal in time, but right now, things aren't looking good.