The Young

The room is so white
And the lights so bright.
It's almost inhumane
The way hospitals are.

I kiss her cheeks;
They are as cold as ice.
Once warm and soft,
they feel like leather.

Her pale lips form the words
"I love you" as I walk away.
The tears burn in my eyes,
But I will not let them fall.

What has happened to my darling sister?

My sadness weighs upon my shoulders,
As I watch her struggle.
Breathing, once an easy task
Takes her energy away.

I watch as her breaths become shallow,
Each taking more effort than the last.
She looks like something is pressing upon her chest
with each breath she takes .

The tubes in her nose, the IVs in her arm,
She does not look like my sister.
My beautiful, joyous, smiling sister,
Who filled the world with light.

Why must her death be such a burden?

She closes her eyelids with such grace,
I watch as the Angels lift her from sleep.
Her death a peaceful one,
The heart monitor falls silent.

The ups and downs on the screen,
Now fall flat in a straight line.
It reminds me of the cross country maps,
That I looked at as she raced.

It was too much for her lungs,
They bursted like a bubble.
But she had such a passion,
That would eventually kill her.

How could something she loved be so toxic?

"She's gone" the nurse whispers,
As the doctors whisk a sheet over her.
Her nose forming a small tent,
I touch mine, the same pointy shape.

Salt finally cascades down my cheeks,
I look away, blinding myself from a world without my beloved sister.
My mother, our mother, embraces me,
We sob together in silence.

What a tragedy it must be,
To watch your child slowly slip away,
And all this time,
You thought it would be you in that bed.

Why must the young be taken from earth?

-Anna, @uniquely_insane.