A Girl I Know

A sight that pricks the heart like a pin, deflating it Happiness gushing out to leave a melancholy horror Which lingers longer like the blood in the tube They have wrenched into your tiny vein, Crude and cruel-looking, too big As is the white band hung loosely round your wrist. How did you get here again? I try to give you a hug, but am too conscious of your arm, Not wanting to knock the needle Scratching at the surface of what went wrong, Gazing at the scuffed lino when I can't quite manage To look into your sad beautiful eyes. You shouldn't be here, in this sterile room And the too-big bed, clothes neatly folded inside carrier bags Packed with compensatory guilt and recognition Of the fact that it is too late. You are probably more intelligent than the nurses, But are reduced to this tiny vulnerable being, Picking at the stitches on Mr. Ted, your ever-faithful ally. I feel like crying, though I'm the one who has it easy - The thought of you here alone with that awful thing Stuck into your arm, framed by pointy elbows. I want to explain how much I love you, but all Words fail - I think the words ran out a long time ago; You have heard it before, though I still want to talk for hours. A sad scene: two girls bought together by the very thing That is tearing them apart.