I feel often that I am just an
embyro, an egg never hatched. The little I know of life has kept me alive and I
am thankful, but yet I am so blind to so much. The dangers I don’t know
sometimes overwhelm me with fear. When I look into the horizon, I see a vast
ocean of knowledge, but the further out to sea I swim, more dangers lurk.
Though there are sharks around me, I just breathe and float. If I could be any age in life, I would
the age of love, a time of pain lost.
I look over to the sun rising.
I don’t have to swim in darkness. I can break free from this shell. I
will.
I know how this should be: I've seen it, you see, In soap operas, Movies. Your eyes are closed, As if in sleep. Perfect peachy skin Atop a snow white pillow Under flawlessly matched sheets. The heart monitor, Quiet bleeps. The ventilator, A steady hiss. None of that is this. Your eyes Stuck open Seeing without sight Yellow sclera Dumb tears streaming. Tubes, taped to your face Delicate skin torn Where nurses Repositioned them To feed you To heal you You never liked being told What to do. Your whole torso spasms Spastic, Every 40 seconds. A machine Forces your lungs to act. Your hands are warm From hemodialysis But don't respond When we each grab one Give it a kiss. We spend the day Brushing your hair Telling stories Singing songs. Praying prayers. You're not there. Hospital staff Are more lovely If less pretty Than on TV. When the time comes They gently walk us From the room Close the curtai...
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