I watched her.
This broken bird.
Before me.
Machines and.
Needles.
Poking and prodding her.
Her chest rose and fell.
Her eyes fluttered gently.
Her hands gripped her pillow for dear life.
I wondered if she was dreaming.
If she was having a real dream.
Or was her mind blank?
It shouldn't be possible.
For her to be reduced.
To this.
Not a bird such as her.
A girl.
Who could do anything.
I pulled up a chair.
Next to her bed.
And took her hand in mine.
I pressed her warm skin.
Against my forehead.
And I prayed to Them.
Prayed for her health.
And her happiness.
And her Life.
And I prayed they heard me.
She awakened later.
While I was memorizing.
The lines of her face.
"Hey. How do you feel?"
I asked her.
Taking her hand again.
"I'm okey dokey."
I admired.
Her effort to smile.
She was ok.
She was always ok.
At least from what she said.
She blabbed on to me.
About anything that wasn't about.
What was wrong with her.
And I listened patiently.
To her talk about everything.
Until it was the right time to ask.
"What's wrong with you?"
I asked her softly.
Avoiding her gaze.
She grabbed my face in her hands.
And forced me to look.
In her blue eyes she hated.
But I loved.
"I'm a little sick.
But it's ok.
I'm a little bird.
And as a little bird.
Eventually.
I have to fly away."
