every time i walk in these doors 

i am close to tears

sometimes they flow to the surface,

other times they just mingle inside

with the memories

today i was in this hospital again

and was reminded of the stories

i've painted here before;

they whispered to me about floor F

when inquiring about paperwork i needed

they spoke easily about floor E

which is where i stayed when my daughter was born

i wasn't given what i came for

but i left with an eerie sense of the forbidden,

the things we're supposed to hide