sombre

lupine eulogies

4:44 AM - wednesday september 29th

i lie on the cold, sterile floor, the tiles pressing hard against my skin. the lights above flicker, casting pale shadows that dance across the room. i stare at my hands, at the way the veins trace delicate patterns beneath the surface, blue rivers in a landscape of flesh. i curl my fingers, feeling the joints creak, the skin stretch. so thin, so fragile.

i press my hand to my chest, feeling the steady thump of my heart beneath the brittle cage of my ribs. each beat a reminder that i am here, that i am alive. but how easily that could change. a fall, a twist, a sudden stop-how quickly the body could crumble.

i think of the patients, of the way their bodies betray them. the way the skin tears so easily, the way bones snap, the way blood spills. i see it all, the fragility, the frailty, the way life clings to the body like a thin film, easily washed away.

i close my eyes, and i can feel it-the cracks in my bones, the brittleness of my flesh. i am a structure held together by sheer will, a fragile vessel of blood and breath. one wrong move, one mistake, and it could all fall apart.

i shiver, not from the cold, but from the knowledge that i am breakable. that we all are. we walk through life, pretending we are strong, invincible, but beneath it all, we are fragile, so fragile.

i open my eyes and look at the clock on the wall. time is slipping away, seconds ticking by, each one a reminder that this body, this fragile thing, has an expiration date. i stand, my legs trembling, and i move forward, each step a delicate balance between life and the abyss.

and i know, deep down, that one day, it will break. but for now, i keep moving, holding on to the fragility, embracing it, because it is all i have.