Perfectly Imperfect Me

You told me to turn away,

But I didn’t listen then,

And now I watch you fade every day.

 

Pale skin,

Chapped lips,

But still the boy I know within.

 

Clear IV fluid,

White tiles,

More bills and scans,

More medical files.

 

Foam cup,

Waiting for the PET scan,

Wondering if there is hope,

Holding your pale hand.

 

Trying to pretend,

That the thing eating away your bones,

Will not be your end.

 

Green and purple bruises,

Faded smile,

Where is my happy boy?

I haven’t seen him in a while.

 

Visiting hour ticking away,

Please make this not be,

Your last day.