Cool grey tiles against my bare feet
Here come the tears
Push them back, push them back a while longer.
Running high on emotion
Low on sleep
Glasses slip off the tip of my nose
A soft clatter on the thin white sheet
A blurry gurney wheel stares back
They took him away in a yellow bed.
He was finally smiling again.
Here comes the hysteria
Push it back, push it back a while longer.
I roll the blankets into a crumpled heap
I want to collapse on the pile.
Who threw the glass away?
Is it still blood-stained on the coffee table,
The gleaming red a stagnant brown?
Or was it recycled by some unknown irony?
I've been so strong all night
He called at 2:56am
It's now 11:04am
I haven't cried since he met me at the door
With drunken slitted eyes
Mouth crooked with hatred
Shallow red streaks across his left arm.
I lay the bundle on the empty white gurney
And my fingers nearly brush the lined bloodstains
On the sheet rumpled by his body.
Eyes blur behind glass frames
I lay my head on the pile, exhausted.
Oh, David. I forgive you.
Very early Easter morning I got a call from my friend at work. He was calling to say goodbye. My mom and I rushed over to his house a little after 3 in the morning; he opened the door for me, and my mom and I sat with him until the medics came. I was with him at the hospital from 4:30 (mom left before we were allowed to see him) until around 11 that morning. We talked until nearly 8, and he got better and better. He began to look me in the face, talk strongly, even smile and laugh a few times. He apologized to me 3 different times, but I told him it was a God thing, it's what friends do, already forgiven. Looking back, I was not running on my own strength in those morning hours. I slept on a sheet next to him on the floor for the last couple hours. I didn't break down from it until after he was transferred to a different hospital and I was on my way home. I spent a couple of hours with Dave late last night; I cried again for a while as he held me tight inside his strong arms. Now all I need to do to siphon off the last of the emotion is to turn it into words. This is my thought process just after they had transferred him and I was gathering my my things to leave. I haven't written something this meaningful in quite a while.
Here come the tears
Push them back, push them back a while longer.
Running high on emotion
Low on sleep
Glasses slip off the tip of my nose
A soft clatter on the thin white sheet
A blurry gurney wheel stares back
They took him away in a yellow bed.
He was finally smiling again.
Here comes the hysteria
Push it back, push it back a while longer.
I roll the blankets into a crumpled heap
I want to collapse on the pile.
Who threw the glass away?
Is it still blood-stained on the coffee table,
The gleaming red a stagnant brown?
Or was it recycled by some unknown irony?
I've been so strong all night
He called at 2:56am
It's now 11:04am
I haven't cried since he met me at the door
With drunken slitted eyes
Mouth crooked with hatred
Shallow red streaks across his left arm.
I lay the bundle on the empty white gurney
And my fingers nearly brush the lined bloodstains
On the sheet rumpled by his body.
Eyes blur behind glass frames
I lay my head on the pile, exhausted.
Oh, David. I forgive you.
Very early Easter morning I got a call from my friend at work. He was calling to say goodbye. My mom and I rushed over to his house a little after 3 in the morning; he opened the door for me, and my mom and I sat with him until the medics came. I was with him at the hospital from 4:30 (mom left before we were allowed to see him) until around 11 that morning. We talked until nearly 8, and he got better and better. He began to look me in the face, talk strongly, even smile and laugh a few times. He apologized to me 3 different times, but I told him it was a God thing, it's what friends do, already forgiven. Looking back, I was not running on my own strength in those morning hours. I slept on a sheet next to him on the floor for the last couple hours. I didn't break down from it until after he was transferred to a different hospital and I was on my way home. I spent a couple of hours with Dave late last night; I cried again for a while as he held me tight inside his strong arms. Now all I need to do to siphon off the last of the emotion is to turn it into words. This is my thought process just after they had transferred him and I was gathering my my things to leave. I haven't written something this meaningful in quite a while.
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