The hospital

They all say the hospital smells of antiseptic.
But all I could smell was the cotton mask.
And the sense of worrisome hanging in the air.

The feeling of anxiousness so deep,
it makes me look up each time someone in the uniform passes by.
It makes my heart stop each time the announcement calls for kin of so-and-so.

Moreover, the sense of worrisome does not end the moment you see your kin.
You see the physical, but you don’t see the disease.
The things that are eating them on the inside.

It could be cancer cells,
Could be high blood pressure,
Could be diabetes,
Could be too much potassium.
Could be anything you can ever dream of.
Could be anything you can never dream of.