Donna allegra
02-18-2011, 03:25 PM
Us: Straining to be passionless and cheerful
swallowing the screams inside our chests
like so many tumors
“Textbook” cancer, doctors tell us
while simultaneously feeding us a steady dose
of false hope
Suck it up, they suggest
Pain, anger, hopelessness, faithlessness,
Sense of being right
Alone, without her comfort,
without her nurturing
Together, but each separate
like never before
United in the waiting for her to wake up
And watching the numbers on her screen
Like falling temperatures
Before the big storm
Her: Silently absorbing the beeping, whirring, rushing of ICU
Waiting for her body to give its last
Unable to speak, or move, alone in her head
Love of her life holding her hand,
Patiently willing her to heal
So they two could go home
Sepsis stealing, cancer polluting,
color sapped,
transformed back to hairless infancy
by hospital gown and cooing loved ones
Her soul on a precipice,
Pain working to accomplish the goal.
Letting go of what she knows is not important anymore
Drugged on medication, on this thing she does here,
On this thing she is becoming
Alone in her head,
dreaming of desperate voices and stroking hands,
she offers a trace of a squeeze or a slight nod
to give one last sign of affection
“Do you want to keep trying?” her love asks.
A last moment of clarity: her head twitches side to side.
swallowing the screams inside our chests
like so many tumors
“Textbook” cancer, doctors tell us
while simultaneously feeding us a steady dose
of false hope
Suck it up, they suggest
Pain, anger, hopelessness, faithlessness,
Sense of being right
Alone, without her comfort,
without her nurturing
Together, but each separate
like never before
United in the waiting for her to wake up
And watching the numbers on her screen
Like falling temperatures
Before the big storm
Her: Silently absorbing the beeping, whirring, rushing of ICU
Waiting for her body to give its last
Unable to speak, or move, alone in her head
Love of her life holding her hand,
Patiently willing her to heal
So they two could go home
Sepsis stealing, cancer polluting,
color sapped,
transformed back to hairless infancy
by hospital gown and cooing loved ones
Her soul on a precipice,
Pain working to accomplish the goal.
Letting go of what she knows is not important anymore
Drugged on medication, on this thing she does here,
On this thing she is becoming
Alone in her head,
dreaming of desperate voices and stroking hands,
she offers a trace of a squeeze or a slight nod
to give one last sign of affection
“Do you want to keep trying?” her love asks.
A last moment of clarity: her head twitches side to side.