Written on: 01-24-09

~A Memory~

We sat behind drawn walls, just sheets and hooks really.
Trivial t.v. in the corner, echoing sounds all around and dripping death--
slow and teasing.
I read to you, your favorite book as you took in the final round...
the last chance elixir.
You looked like Rodin's Thinking Man, head in hand and dealing.
Until its strength began to show, shaking where you were,
so collected.
We walked in your neighborhood later that night, the moon was full...
but the reaper seemed to cast a shadow over every lunar beam.
Draping his cloak of death over any chance of hope.
With every step you took, next to mine....it felt as if you'd already taken his hand,
to follow him to the other side.
I remember, having to look over at you, to make sure you hadn't disappeared.
How would I tell your mother, how would she know....that death had come for you--
and that you decided to let go?
We found our way into the park, where baseball games once played on.
We laid down on the grass, chilled from the desert air...then I helped you to see the stars.
Was I your conduit, your transcending angel...an exchange of hand?
The night before our last goodbye, you introduced me to an art I'd never known.
Teaching me how I should learn to let you go, well I know I've been a stubborn student,
but I've finally learned how.
You would be proud.
No one should have to experience what you did, 10 years of pain and sickness...
artificial hope and the medical rope, the "remedy" to slowly hang yourself with.
You, their patient and they....the Kevorkian elite.
God, how they treated you...like a wild animal in a zoo.
Gave you a fix and sent you home...ravenous but unable to eat.
You were better, but it was only for a little while...
then the phone rang.
They missed you so much, they brought you back for more.
Served you with that aged wine, that Molotov Cocktail from hell.
I heard your voice...weak like a defeated lamb, saying 'stay with me on the phone,
until this poison takes me home'.
Twelve hours we were connected...while they worked on you like robotic Mengele,
curious to see what would work...or what wouldn't.
I'm surprised they let you stay on the line as they snapped
and taunted you with their Hades shears.
I could hear them clearly...so clearly I could have their degree.
He said--"You were my companion, my angel walking me through this hell...
you've been my savior when I no longer believed. I love you, I always will."
I didn't have to see the monitor, to see the straight line....
Then there was a deafening silence....he slept.
Nothing more, until his father delivered you to me in the form of a goodbye.
He's gone....
They can't hurt you anymore.
Now, you can exhale, now you can fly.