to my grandfather, A.R.A,
and to my aunt, B.N.H,
who fought cancer
with their last breaths.
☾︎ the last days, you could barely whisper my name once,
the last days, your eyes forgot your family's resemblance.
the torment in your voice was as if sapphire stones were breaking on their own on your bedroom floor,
i didn't want to accept that we couldn't just sit and talk anymore.
☾︎ i was too scared to ever ask you,
but then i saw your face and i just knew i had to,
how have you been so strong all this while?
locked inside of hospital rooms with not one familiar smile.
those were the last days that i got to see your face,
and i'm still hopelessly trying to find you in the people that i meet,
but there's no one like you, no one could ever be.
☾︎ the last days, i was dreading every breath you were taking,
the last days, the sun didn't rise in those paper skies,
the last days, the doctors didn't bother telling us all those gentle lies,
the last days, each one of us were saying silent goodbyes,
the last days, were tarnished with our shattering cries; and we were desperately trying to hold on to that little time.
☾︎ but i guess our hands must've slipped, our chance was missed and i swear you were just laying there a second ago but now they're carrying you away in white clothes, just tell me how can i make this stop? how can i bring you back and rewind the clock?
that last day, i wished to just hear you say my name once more, and to just see you smile before your eyes closed for that last time.
—
YOU ARE READING
it's archaic
Poetry❝a rustic array of verses that whisper themselves through the centuries and into our souls.❞ ☾︎ a poetic escapism; bringing stories from the windermere library in my mind, to you. -m.h. ☾︎ hr : 1 in poetry, 1 in poems, 1 in poesia.
