The Fight

i remember her and clearly still she sat in a bed surrounded by that sickening antiseptic smell i held her hand so tightly to reassure her she needed that. i could tell. she smiled a pale thin,weak smile and i kissed her cheek. she asked how much more she needed to fight just a bit more, you are getting better. she seemed to smell my lie. i held her hand and she shed one single tear. just one. keep fighting love you will win. just keep fighting. it was a warm sunday. she was lain in a shady earthen bed beneath the roses.... or what used to be roses. amythist...she kept on fighting... for the roses grew back. the grew back purple. a light quaint purple. i fell to my knees and cried in the grass... baby you dont have to fight anymore.