She Was There

"She's not the same; It's not... her."

I nodded in understanding, 

He patted my shoulder and trudged into the kitchen

I looked into the open doorway for a moment, 

Needing to burn this moment into my memory.

I walked steady into the room
It was dark to the right.
To the left is where she laid, that's where the light was.
There she was.
It was almost laughable except for the fact
That it altogether was not.
She was on her back
Chin sunk into her chest, hands beautifully at her side.
The skin on her face had the full effect of gravity
Or the full effect of pain.
Phillip was at the foot of her bed.
Told me to sit, like we did this all the time.

He was talking but all I could hear was her body.
This wasn't her. Someone was wearing her skin as a costume
And it was too big for them, She was too big for them.
This was too big for me.

Life was happening but the clock was tapping.

Loudly, like a dripping faucet in a porcelain room.

An hour glass, emptying

Grain, by

Grain by

grain. 

And that’s all I could hear

That clock tick-tocking.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick .

Tock.

It was almost as if death was tapping his toe, saying

I

Am

Wai-

Ting.

If you’re going to be here, hovering over her every breath,

Don’t be a tool about it.

Let her invite you in, offer you some orange juice, bring you a brownie. 

Like she did me, like she did all of us. 

She was still there, 

a paralyzed shell.

She was still in there, banging on the brim of her brain

"I'm Still here! I am in here!"

But I stared, 

And he stared. 

And she was vacant.

Tick. 

Tock. 

Tick. 

Tock.