at 4 am
eyes half open to this world
i hear the dead
conversing
my past
whispering
in my mind
i listen to you
pleading
to leap out of this life
because terror claimed you
in that hospital bed
the ties at your wrists
the sharp intrusions of pain
tested their bounds
since the accident
immobility robbed you of lucid thought
the pain tapped your shoulder
your arm
your head
with its pointy finger
jabbed you in the ribs
and in between nothing
but breath
after breath
after breath
i wouldn’t let you jump
dull eyes waned
betrayed
i remember us sitting
on the beach
the sand sucking in our toes
as we dug in
recalling your life
as a woman with a life
a woman who wrote poetry
drank cheap wine and worked a day job
dreamed of the Black Mesa or sometimes Bakersfield
who loved tattoos and Twain
i couldn’t let you go
so easily