Get Well Soon My Love

The low tones of the machines
Are filling your bones with life
and we breathe in the silence
of our dreams, and future goals
deflating like the get well balloons

filling this room, your catacombs
and tombs reverberating in these
walls like the bleeping of the
heart monitor and together we
ignore death calling your name,

whispering and enticing all the
same methods we have witnessed
before, I am holding that door closed
with all of my weight, they will not
be dragging you through that gate,

We know your fate and in the dropping
Quiet I hold your hand tightly, and
The dark taunts us, you tell me not
To put my life on hold, but my life goes
On hold the minute you let go, so take

It slowly, and let me be here with you
In our dangerous reality, our faces
Illuminated by the glow of the TV,
You stopped talking a while ago
But I carry our memories with dulcet

Murmurs and muffled laughter, I talk
About happy ever afters like they’re
Still possible for us, and your trust in
Me makes us believe a little while
Longer, and I paint a little house in

Suburbia with a little dog, more yours
Than mine but I take it fine, always
Being more of a cat person anyway,
You say the odds will be evened with
The baby, convinced her doe eyes will

Only see me, but now that possibility
Has been suffocated by chemicals and
Bleach, and you tell me to reach for
These things regardless of circumstance,
Spelling goodbye in the air around us

And it settles there, I pretend not to
Care, that it doesn’t cut me to the
Core, but you’re done cutting corners
and beg for that door to be opened,
I let it swing wide as I leave

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