"Use My Clothes, I'll Be Fine."

The smell of expired food
slapped me across the face,
blue white walls  
showered me with loneliness.

The bleating sounds of agony
grabbed hold of me
women in sterile uniforms,
pushed carts along
the smooth carpet.

Behind the door to A3
sat a woman on a lazyboy chair
she smiled and gave
a gentle chuckle,
brown eyes that once
had a glimmer of life
faded into the distance
between the creases of pain.

In her purple floral pjs
her breasts hung loose
without a care in the world,
her body walked out on her
I felt her bones weaken
beneath her sagging skin,
yellow like the sunflower
outside the window.

Her boy-like hair
was filled with grey,
it seemed to suit
the fragile you, mum.
Night crept in,
the room became tight,
suffocating heat stuck
my clothes to my skin.

I supported her whilst she moaned,
blood filled the bucket
I gently planted a kiss on her head,
carefully laid her on the bed
I took deep breaths in,
swung the door open
and marched down to reception
demanding,
morphine please.

The nurse smiled at me
she only spoke four words,  
denial caressed  my face
shielded me from the suffering
that was waiting like a snake
wanting a bite out of this
lifeless shell.

I returned to see that she looked
like she was no longer there,
but as I stroked her arm
she laughed like there was no tomorrow.

I read her Psalms chapter  23,
we spoke about us children
even though we were  moepis,  
she adored us unconditionally.
Her smiled hugged me with
its  pure radiance,
as she whispered   
“Use my clothes, I’ll be fine.”

Gwen.P