Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Imaginary Disease

His mind is sick and tortured;
he cannot communicate with the outside world

He is in solitary confinement;
he cannot move on his own, he needs a tube to breathe

He has become a machine;
his heart is beeping, not beating

He is checked on daily by the finest doctors and physicians;
their reports all say the same thing, "brain dead on arrival"

He wants to break through;
he wants to tell her he loves her


The machine squeaks to a halt;
he is pronounced dead

He is in a room full of crying people standing near a raised box;
he walks over and sees his body, dressed in his Sunday best

He tries to lean on the coffin;
his hands and forearms pass through it

He sighs heavily;
blinking his eyes to stop the tears

He decides to go into the great beyond;
he turns around

He cannot believe his eyes;
she's standing right there

Time suddenly stops;
seemingly unaffected by the pausing of time, she walks forward

Somehow able to see him, she smiles;
I loved you all along, she whispers

He tries to speak;
her finger comes to his lips, silencing him

I know you loved me as well;
she continues to say

You will be at peace;
she kisses his lips lightly

Everything started to fade together;
the faces, the colors, the people, became a bright light

Only her face remained;
he felt a gentle squeeze where his hand used to be

A feeling of warmth washed over him;
he embraced death, and walked into the light


A heaving female body was strewn over a body in a hospital bed;
as a long tone sounded

A man in a white coat announced;
Time of death, 10:01 PM

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