Forever young
I don’t think I will live till old age
an age where I will tell the heavens my days as if they’re ancient tales,
an age where I will look back and laugh at my foolish mistakes,
an age where my hair turns grey with time and knowledge.
My body is too weak to listen to my commands.
As I lie hopelessly in bed, connected with strings and ropes that keep me alive…
Mom said I will make it till winter,
but her words are full of love and lies.
Dad is too broken to look at me,
his pockets full of holes as he drowns in shoes too big for his size.
My sister holds my gaze, afraid I will close my eyes,
but I am too tired to hold hers
my eyes heavy and worn.
I just want to sleep peacefully.
The hospital is dark and hollow…
maybe I don’t want to sleep,
I just want to be free of these loud machines,
these strings and ropes.
For I know I will not be awake till winter to tell my tale,
so I will just write a poem, hoping the heavens will hear it.
Though I don’t want to sleep,
my eyes are too tired to look at my broken dad.
I can no longer hear my mom’s lies
the machine beeps too loudly for me to hear her hope and love.
I hope my sister looks away,
for I am too tired to hold her gaze.
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