I have become stone, dry stone, dry gray stone. Little trickles into my heart, although it still beats. Behind a concrete wall maybe, or caged tightly in a corset of barbed wire. The skipping heart which danced across a city or laughed through an afternoon has shrivilled into this.

They say that is the process of medical education. That you become a robot of sort, a heartless foot soldier of an army which you swore you would never fight for, a massive institution.

I need my heart opened. I feel it breaking everyday, shaky voice everywhere I speak. This is my inclination to be human, but I am suffocating it, I know. Otherwise, how will I graduate?