Broken Rhythms.

I remember you standing by the nightstand after one of your episodes, humming broken rhythms, searching my eyes for an invite

I warned that this had to be the last time

you asked if I was tired of you

with a knowing smile, you joked about leaving

I understand what you meant

in more ways than one

 I didn’t find your joke funny

I patted the side of the bed, urging you to sit, as I brought out my kit

you looked at me with a mix of shame and resentment 

like you hated this ritual

you hated me for always trying to save you

but I know I couldn’t

we both knew I was only stalling; someone had to pull the plug, and it wasn’t going to be me

my tears carved through mountains of grief  

sculpting all the versions we could've been

as I stitched this cut with strings from my shredded heart

hoping this love will turn into time and heal all your wounds

I was drowning too, but I handed you my last breath anyway

I would risk everything to keep you afloat

you thanked me when I was done, you promised it was the last time

I held onto that promise like a lifeline 

I believed you because I needed to 

I had to make sure this was our final dance

I hear the deafening sound of the machine every time in my sleep

some truths arrive long after the wounds close

the healer does have the bloodiest hands