Thursday, April 30, 2015

Victoria Mineo- A Poem


The realization that I was in over my head didn't hit me until I walked into the room, and then, all at once it did. It came at me in a wave of unbearable heat and the most pungent smell I have ever encountered.
I paused there in the doorway for a minute, trying to take it all in.
This poor cramped little room. Stuffed to the gills pictures, dressers, and chairs. In a feeble attempt at creating a "homey" feel. And all the while there in the middle of the room; dominating  everything else, stood the hospital bed. Surrounded by machines; some beeping, some buzzing, and one even breathing; all existing for one reason. To keep the tiny, almost memory of a woman, buried deep within, alive.
I approached the bed timidly. Which is odd being as I am not a timid person. But none the less my hands trembled and my brow sweat in anticipation, in fear, not of this frail thing before me, but of the fierce woman she once was. The madness she created.
Upon reaching the bed my fear turned to horror. There, floating in in a mask of weakness, were those eyes. Sharp and all knowing looking straight through me.  Into me, knowing my intentions. Knowing my plans to end it all, and begging please continue.
A nurse approached from behind me, causing me to jump, nearly knocking over a vital machine.
She placed her hand gently on my arm and with her most reassuring smile she said "She seems lost now, child, but she has her moments of lucidity, and in those I'm sure she remembers you."
"I'm sure she does." I replied as I leaned in, kissing a withered cheek. I felt her feeble flinch, and with a feeling of triumph I whisper softly, "I'll leave you with your moments." 

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