It lives

out-of-surgery3

 

Wheeled out of the hospital room.

Veins throbbing. Hunched neck. Twisted wrists. Dry eyes. Heavy burning heart. Numb tongue.

Stop.

The wheelchair triggers the sensors and the automatic door swings open. A light breeze hits my face.

Indifferent.

A warm gentle hand placed on my shoulder, “you made it through…”

“Please… Let me take you home… Let me take care of you… I beg you… I want to make you happy… I took you for granted once and it cost me so much.” It cost you so much, I could never forgive myself for what happened to you.

please… don’t say no…”

I looked up into those giving eyes…

“ok.”

Couldn’t have said more even if I wanted to.

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~ by Disturbed Stranger on April 25, 2009.

 
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