She was not herself, vulnerable like she had never allowed herself to be.
A tube breathing for her, in and out;
the sound still vibrates tears and haunts daylight.
Broken and swollen, eyes somewhere, nowhere near.
Desperate to let go, desperate to stay, caught in a middle of where she came,
and where she may go.
It's a day to remain, to the shadows of angels, life never to be the same.
A body, but not a person,
A mother, but not a human,
A soul, but not a spirit.
I will never forget the moment we decided, my last whispered words:
We did everything we could,
I know we held on too long,
and for that I'm sorry,
but now you're gonna get a really good high.
I love you mom.
And with a nod at the nurse, and an injection of morphine,
She was gone from there, and also now forever here.