I hear an infinite amount of distractions. The ticking clock, the doctors coming in and out, but all I can zero in on are the small breaths you take.
I look down at your face, as pail as the moon on a clear night and you look right back at me with your beautifully brown eyes. I vaguely hear you utter the words, "Did I fight well?" However, a weak "Yes." was all I could muster and yet, you smile. God, I love your smile, I reflect.
I watch as the demons in your chest take you away from me. Stealing your breaths every time I blink...
As you lay there, I begin to hold my breath waiting for the silent release of death to reach me first; so that I can give my final breaths to you.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Dictionary
ŞiirPoetry: literature that evokes a concentrated imaginative awareness of experience or a specific emotional response through language chosen and arranged for its meaning, sound, and rhythm.
