My sister had a nightmare recently and this kinda just blarfed out of me after hearing what she told me. I don’t know why, it just did. No ones dying, just a dream and a bucket of fear.
I used to think that life lasted forever.
You learn things the hard way,
the way most do.
It stares you right in the face and you have to try your best not to break,
but truth hurts.
Truth is what kills.
Truth is what ends the line.
It cuts everyone’s ropes in the end.
It leaves you with only the truth.
She is gone.
They say they tried their best.
I know they did,
but best is not enough.
Best won’t stop death.
We all saw it coming.
I knew they did too.
I saw it in their eyes,
glassy and filled with emptiness.
Their words changed too.
Soon became maybe became hope became miracle.
Beneath it all laid the truth,
They won’t tell you that thought,
they don’t want you to worry.
You are young, frail and easily afraid
They aren’t wrong,
but you pick up on the clues
It’s easy to see what’s happening when day after day they come home alone,
without her by their side.
When the visits to the hospital become slimmer
and the balloons that once filled their room have all deflated.
They would lie to keep me safe,
to keep me happy,
but life doesn’t lie.
It tells you the truth,
and the hardest truth is told,
when she comes home dead.