This is NOT Happening

Two hundred fifty square feet of living space.
One glass wall with city views no one sees.
Jagged zig zags roll on monitors
lightning bleeps 
across the zags.
Your hands still, bloated fingers slightly curved.
My head hears a migraine beat,
while eyeballs stare so long,
they feel outside my face.
This whirring place makes my skin crawl raw.
Your mouth should be pressed on mine.
Like last night. Or speaking simple words
like this, when, or eggs this morning?
Any words from your mouth,
not taped shut around an intubation tube.


gceojLKoi
  First of two.

 

7 thoughts on “This is NOT Happening

  1. Karen June 16, 2015 / 6:00 pm

    Sad and scary.

    Like

    • lillian June 17, 2015 / 10:08 am

      I know. And it was. But as we know…all is well now and we are truly thankful for every day. Writing prompt in class was to “write it rough”..an emotional experience. And as you point out, this poem is scary / rough. I hesitated posting – but it is a poem others have felt, I am certain.
      Thanks for following, Karen.

      Like

  2. AnnMarie Roselli-Kissack June 17, 2015 / 10:14 am

    Wow, Lillian.
    This is one of those profound pieces one knows is necessary but doesn’t want to face – like the life it mirrors. Powerful, determined and honest.
    Terrific.
    I will wish you an extra happy Wednesday 🙂
    am:)

    Liked by 1 person

    • lillian June 17, 2015 / 10:19 am

      Hard to write – edited many times. Prompt in class was to “write it rough”. And it sure was. So good to see your affirmation this morning. I really hesitated posting. Glad now I did.
      Toasting your kind words and spirit with my coffee cup….

      Liked by 1 person

  3. BarbaraK aka fiddlbarb June 18, 2015 / 11:52 pm

    Whew! Touches my heart and soul as I read.

    Liked by 1 person

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