I sit by your side today,
And I touch your skin.
And I breathe in the scent of the hospital room,
And try not to cry,
But tears fall on their own accord.
And I run my fingers over your wounds,
Lightly, gently, as not to hurt you,
Though I wonder if you feel it anyway.
The tube is in your mouth,
Your eyes are shut,
And I cannot see either.
Because as my vision blurs
And the knot forms in my throat,
I kiss your hand and close my eyes,
And tell you everything.
Because you are my world,
These white sheets stained red and brown,
They are the first sign of my apocalypse.
I kiss your face as your father watches,
Your sisters wipe their tears.
I run my hands through my hair,
And take a deep breath.
But I have to make each moment count,
Because soon, the clock will say it's half past noon,
And I will be forced to leave you.
So I sit down again, and hold your hand,
And stare at your face for an eternity
Which never lasts long enough anyway.
And when I walk from the doors of this hospital,
I will go to work,
And I will smile,
And I will laugh.
And I will hide the tears through the day,
Until I can finally go home to our bed,
And collapse into a heap,
And let my tears stain the covers black,
On sheets that were never white,
And I will hold the pillow that smells like you,
And wear your sweats to bed,
And I'll spray your cologne,
And miss your smell,
And I will cry again,
And I will not sleep.
And in the morning, I will wake up,
At eight thirty,
And shower, and dress,
And be at the hospital before nine thirty,
And I will be the first one through the doors,
Because what hurts the most,
Is the feeling I get in my stomach.
I fear that if I look away too long,
You may just disappear.
