Wednesday, February 3, 2016

III

You haven't really looked sick before, you didn't give off the cancer vibe. Today however, I walk in and you look older, smaller. The bed swallows your frail limbs and you barely smile and close your eyes again. You're mumbling nonsense, I can barely catch your words. 

"I love you."

"You too."

"What time is it?"

"Two o' clock."

You nod, and I fight back tears. 

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