Not thinking

I am not thinking about the hospital,
Not today.
Other days I have sat alone for hours on end,
Remembering the nurse's soothing tones,
The look on her face as we walked in
And the disappointment she tried so hard to hide.
Yesterday I went through it all again,
The walk down those clinical corridors
To the bed where you had to lie for the rest of the afternoon
After swallowing the tablets I could not bear to look at.
But today I'm not thinking about holding your hand,
How you squeezed it when wave after wave
Descended upon your womb,
Or the grey coloured pan
That caught the mussel-like blob swimming in blood
The consistency of snot.
I had to look and see what had caused all this fuss,
And now that crimson covered odd-shaped ball
Is always with me.
I'm not thinking about names anymore,
I am not thinking,
I am not.