constance

Your red takes my breath, stained, strained, I sway, you lay in suspender pain, I would take your place a thousand times as they drip you fake saline rain.

Each tube filled, twisted, listed, misted into messy roller coaster games. Uncontrollable cavities cascading, raising up and falling, aiding deventilated veins.

Rehydrating mistakes, sixteen hours too late, your breathing difficult, shallow, laboured, your beautiful face is glazed… an oxygen mask masks, hides, and diagnoses a fatal malaise.

Dismayed. Blistering burns, lace your smooth soft skin, pointing to unremedied septics, raging infections multiplying within. Unfailing indestructibility compromised, antibodies are being destroyed, emotions played upon by dark angels, deranged arrangement, plagued, voided, toyed.

There’s no collaboration in this twilight, your silent sunset approaches… Even the medication isn’t coping… unable to numb, stun, contain your hurt, we’re left with solemn hoping, quiet reflection and all the while Azrael flirts.

Your strong unwavering voice grazes, gasps, rasps, even faith escapes. Hazing yellow I kiss your cheek and whisper, you acknowledge my final wave, Be Strong I lipped, but it was deemed to be our final day. Ordained. His final say. Forsaking in dimmed light, poisoned by too many toxins, treacherous biting, hindsight, foresight, reciting.

Dazed. Crazed. Dawn breaks for us before first prayer, maximum medication appears to fail all avenues of critical care: consultations conclude the inconclusive virus is far too rare. Livid. Spare. Shock.

Fits of tears drop like igneous rocks.

Lost.

Request to acquiesce, consent denied for blue light fares, godly truths or satanic dares, scattering particles neither here nor there… It ends with rejecting resuscitation when you pass into the next phase, you rapidly continue to, continue to, continue to, fade, you melt into illumination we are forbidden to share… all of us trapped in stagnant magnetised limbo lair.

Memory. Sensory. Trajectory. Anaesthetised. Asleep. Your spirit, essence, your you disappearing into an invisible periphery only you can see.

I wish I could change how I feel, divert you from slipping away. Sedated consciousness, machinery deep, your heart beat ebbing clay. My soul fragments, breaks, shatters,,,, at the end of each and every, each and every, each and every single day.

I wait, and I pray, and I stay, for a way, to lay, my head by your hand again.

8 thoughts on “constance

  1. A Beautiful rendering about a sacred time. You have put into words the reality of feelings. For me, one of your best pieces of work.

    Like

  2. Sorry if this happened to you. The poem is good, unique. I like how you combine science with angels, your technical descriptions mix with the supernatural. It is how one really thinks when one is visiting someone seriously ill. Very good job.

    Like

    1. Thank you so much, this comment coming from you means a lot as I consider your words as being amazing in their own right.

      Like

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