I am starring at my shoes in the ICU.
There poorly tied due to the time rushing before my eyes and they
uncoordinate with my pajamas. I hear a faint sound of the television
entertaining itself. I glance around the room and see more eyes
starring at the cracks on the tiles. I imagine the little boy I see
swears to himself to never step on a crack again for mommy's sake. I
imagine the pacers I see promise to never walk away for their loves
sake. I imagine the patient in 409 taking a long breath without
another to follow. With that, I ration my breaths and presume that I
have already taken too many today.
The room reeks of disease, distress,
and goodbyes, but with my quite breaths I hear steps. My whole body
tenses up. The doctor comes around the corner and everyone draws up
their heads. Before the doctor speaks the pacers stop, the breaths
stop, the regrets stop and I flashback to what Anna said. Time came
back into place and I sprint out of my chair pushing the doctor out
of the way. I frantically race to her room and murmur what Anna said.
“Don't lose hope when the sun goes down, because then the stars
come out.”
Who is going to be there to see you
glisten in the stars?
by sarah libassi
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