Ceiling Poem by Marites C. Cayetano

I'm alive
they call my name
they talk to me
they ask me if I'm alright
they move my body
to face left
and to face right
so to clean my mess
they give me nutrients
through the tube
and warm me up
with heavy quilts.

I'm alive
I have passions
I have hopes
I have dreams
and I have memories
but they all linger
only in my mind.

I'm alive
I know I'm alive
but all I see
is the white ceiling
that turns black
at 9pm.