You should have seen her eyes
patriotic
red stripes beneath
white swollen lids
(they used to be blue)
and the lacerations
glass sliced the prettiest parts of her brow
face blown wide
full of fluids
fed by tubes
nose two
throat two
catheter
arms...
scopes watching, waiting to alarm
she slept
barely breathing through
what once smiled straight
now black with blood
where teeth stood proud.
Foul, so foul
the zipper from abdomen to breasts
the knees bent, broken
the hands clutching for fetal sleep
the bottles
the bodily fluids
the white of sheets
the coldness of flesh
the body
the blood.
There inside the feeble
the loyalty to life
her hand reached to tell me
"I'm not dying."
In light of all set before me
and with the fear of rolling beds
I woke and realized
I finally know where death lies
and I'm not dying either.