(Inspired and adapted from ‘She, Myself and I’ by Emma Young:D)

To me, Hospital is prison,

To them, Hospital is hope.

To me, Outside is freedom,

To him, Outside is most.

Who am I?

I am Rosa.

Who am I?

I am Sylvia.

Who are we?

We’re two of the same person.

But who are we?

Not the same person.

In the hospital, I’m trapped.

Outside, I’m a girl on the bench.

In the hospital, he feels regret.

Outside, that’s how we met.

He sits on the bench,

Weathered gray-brown wood separate our legs.

My teeth are clenched,

I need a break.

He’s wearing jeans, a dark gray shirt,

Sleeves rolled to his elbows, no sunglasses alert.

His eyes are blue, but with an undertone of light,

The shirt says two, words that mean bright.

Seven-eleven, seven-eleven,

For inhalation, and exhalation.

He introduces himself as,

Joe Tyler, journalist from Bostonstream.