Alice Feeney

I’m sorry about what happened, it’s only because I love you.

It feels like my whole body ices over. I hear a beep.

Message deleted. You have no new messages.

‘Did you know that one of the drugs we use to keep people in a coma is the same drug they use in America for the death penalty?

She looks so young. I wish time had been as kind to me as it has been to her.

I’ve always delighted in the free fall between sleep and wakefulness.

She’s completely alone in life but never lonely.

Why a team of women who produce a show for women is managed by a man is beyond my comprehension.

I’m enjoying the self-medicated delusion that permits me to imagine that I could be anyone, I could be anywhere, I could be loved.

I hate hospitals. They are the home of death and regrets that missed their slots, not somewhere I would ever choose to visit, let alone stay.

On the outside, I am nobody and I have no name.

I want to see the me they have seen. I want to sit up, reach out and touch them. I want to feel something again. Anything. Anyone. I want to ask a thousand questions. I think I want to know the answers.