You probably died
a few miles back.
This was the last day I'll ever be really alive
. You took too big
of a piece of me up to heaven
with you. Looking back over the bucket seat
, your little shell glows with Cerenkov light
in the desert night
. I paw
at my face to move the damned tears
away and floor the car
. I'll finish the journey for you
was a kid who drew a bad hand
but played anyway. All the nurses said that they couldn't understand how she smiled beneath the IV
hoses and blistering florescent light
s. Losing your hair
was the funniest joke
in the world to you. It broke my heart
like a hammer on ice
White coats flowed in and out of our lives, morbid estimates
and arcane procedures
that you never really understood. You called it your "monster
" and you soldiered on.
The monster started to win
a few months ago. Even you couldn't fight forever. The cracks in the little girl facade
were showing, and the circle
s under your eyes got as black as the ocean
. Dying never looked more beautiful, or as sad
The last day started when you finally cried
. You woke up early, pale and piteous. Weary and thin. When you saw me sleeping in the chair, you toted
that silver tree of poison
across the cold gray tile and crawled into my arms
. The tears on my cheek and the soft shudder
of your silent surrender
woke me up.
We have to leave.
I love you.
The pain took you back under and I took you away. You always loved the desert
. It was twilight
when we passed out of the city. Under my jacket and curled up like a baby
, I drove you out into the dead lands
. Red sand
You died with that little smile
on your face.
I died when I saw the sun rise