Doting Wife
How does a doting wife feel when her husband is dying?
Disease snaked its thorny tendrils around you,
Squeezing away the last salty tears from your eyes.
I grasped your bony fingers in mine, as you withered.
The hoarse breaths wakened me from slumber
Like a hungry baby’s cry for milk.
The sound of death resembling birth, in a cycle of grief.
Metal rings around our fingers,
Echo vows made long ago…through sickness.
The words swirl in my head, chastising me.
The weight of regrets in my pocket
Drown me in an ocean of false promises.
I will forever lie with sea slugs.
It sucked your heart like a leech,
Pulling you down faster than a winter sunset, abandoning me,
to watch you swallowed by the horizon.
Paper thin hands squeeze mine, and your
Cracked lips form incoherent syllables;
The whispered words dispersing like ashes into the night.
Squeezing away the last salty tears from your eyes.
I grasped your bony fingers in mine, as you withered.
The hoarse breaths wakened me from slumber
Like a hungry baby’s cry for milk.
The sound of death resembling birth, in a cycle of grief.
Metal rings around our fingers,
Echo vows made long ago…through sickness.
The words swirl in my head, chastising me.
The weight of regrets in my pocket
Drown me in an ocean of false promises.
I will forever lie with sea slugs.
It sucked your heart like a leech,
Pulling you down faster than a winter sunset, abandoning me,
to watch you swallowed by the horizon.
Paper thin hands squeeze mine, and your
Cracked lips form incoherent syllables;
The whispered words dispersing like ashes into the night.
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