nights go by so slowly

as i lie on the sterlie, white bed, i think.
"nothing here has personality".
i remember other places with painting and writing on the walls, stuffed animals, flowers, clowns, candy coins and being showered with confetti.  but i guess i grew out of appreciating creativity.  
i remember walking into this same place at a tender age, my heart falling through the floor.  perhaps i needed a hospital bed even more than my mother.  seeing her lie dead on a stretcher couldn't be anymore painful.  somehow, though, she managed to fight death and stay alive, even after she was already dead.  i thought she was a hero, until i learned why she was on that bed and not in her own.

but it doesn't matter now.
i just want to forgive everything, and everyone.
i don't want to die unhappy, and i don't want anyone to be unhappy because of my death.
this monster lurking in my veins now, originally just a small lump in a small region, has become so strong that i'm not sure if i can ever move again.  i don't want to lose.

the only thing that could make this more painful is that in the next bed over, behind a white sheet, lies the corpse of my former love.  my hollywood affairs led me astray many times, but this man was no mistake.  hard-bodied with shaggy hair, a guitar, and success beyond any means, i couldn't comprehend the fact that this glorious creation had faltered before i.  it seems it was nothing more than a simple needle infection.  or sex infection.  who knew that the best things in life came with such an expensive fee?  but i did nothing wrong.

as i prayed, to jesus, allah, buddah, anyone who would listen, i begged for forgiveness.  i didn't mean to estrange myself from everyone who ever originally cared for me, or to walk all over my friends and loved ones.  i certainly never meant to disenchant a young lad who, after dropping his children and wife like a bombshell, grovelled at my feet for the tiny few months that i considered acceptable.  after that his life was shambles.  

perhaps this was karmic retribution.

but now i'm lying here, deserving this, and wishing.  "could i please just start all over again?"  because we all know fame makes a woman loose and hard to swallow.