Here’s a shard of warmth I’ll carry, that faded from you.
I’m holding my breath, in mimicry, uselessly urging, knowing finality,
if I? Will you?
That teasing sign of life is absent,
strength sinks through me, yet there is enough for this,
On the backs of eyelids, this snapshot will forever remain.
You lay here, I sit, daring not to move, so much like three years past.
That was then. Different machines, another room,
in my arms, I bear your weight.
The silence is a mute scream, an inward scar rending throughout,
no more Banana Pancakes, only the rustle of clothes plays your exit.
You are our fixed point.
Beyond, snow falls as feathers gather,
a clean canvas, this unwanted fresh start.
Time runs and slips, changing form,
Not long left, messages are passed and broadcast like smoke signals,
the world needs to know! God damn you, fuck you any lords above!
Our tears flow over the sentence given,
she cries too, they aren’t robots, at all.
The only possible absolute is a question, a decision,
one that will linger and haunt, forever at my back,
until my time comes.
Alone then, as now.
There may have been a picture, she said eighty percent,
I wish the conversation had been different,
my sweet girl.