I’m watching you as you fight to loosen the last vestiges that tie you to this existence.
I’m watching myself in this space too;
The breath we take for granted, is the breath we fight to hold onto,
When the tides turn and we all return back to some infinite ocean.
Your body like a shipwrecked vessel on the shore of your white hospital bed,
Lists precariously to the side.
We work to hold you up and right this seemingly helpless position,
And you return after mere moments to where you were before.
The artificial light in this room,
Constantly reminds me of the weary attempts we make to try and make our days here
last a little longer.
The light in your eyes has dimmed and makes a mockery of all our futile attempts to
bring back to life, what is committed to dying.
So, I hold your hand in mine and stroke the rough texture of your skin,
And commit myself to this long goodbye.
Even Lazarus had to let go in the end.