i'd sleep on the white tile lobby floor

and pace until the time to visit starts. 

the bright lights are on but i'm away... 

how nervous a voice sounds on the phone. 

you agree when you check in at the desk . 

permission and trust in every move. 

i'd be beside you when they're done 

but i'll have to wait until i can call. 

the blood kept you home while i was gone. 

they left you a note when you woke up 

"don't be alarmed by wooden splints." 

there won't be a need for you to call. 

excuses for careless doctor errors. 

acceptance by all past patients have 

allowed for a cold disclaiming note. 

the warning is there, no need to call.