12.
Eleven days.
More surgeries, so many setbacks.
Your body, too weak and broken, gives up with one last breath.
I kiss your forehead one last time.
Your skin is ashen under my lips.
You lay here lifeless, while he's still out there.
I close my eyes and let the tears come and consume me.
I can't think of a life where you're not in it.
You were my life.
Nurses come and go.
They let me stay with you for a long time.
There is nobody else.
Our friends are consumed with their own grief.
Too much, too soon, for too many people.
Something's pressing on my chest, choking me.
I can't breathe.
*sobs*
