One heart, two lungs,
One liver, two hands,
Two eyes and a nose.
Crooked teeth and a smile
That can shatter your world
Into a million pieces,
While simultaneously fixing you into a whole.
I eat with him every evening,
I tell him he is chewing too loud,
Ask him if he’d like a cup of tea.
I laugh at his jokes, shout at his stupidity,
Hide from his disappointment,
Cry when he doesn’t return
After a truck hits the side of his car;
Wrapping it around the front
Like a towel around his waist.
I scream when the doctors stop performing CPR
And the nurses hang their heads.
I beg when they return to their everyday business,
He was just another spilled carton of milk
And they had cleaned up best they could
But couldn’t save the carton.
Now I eat alone on my sofa,
My partner in crime six feet below.
I write my days in a diary
A letter to the grave.
I eat in silence
The absence of chewing mocking my ears,
As our symphony of mastication
Is broken into a solo.
And the kettle sits on the side
Unused for days,
Weeks,
Months.
Because the taste of tea is bitter now.
About the Creator
Becky FitzGerald
Profile Photo Credit: James Davies - https://www.facebook.com/JamesEDaviesPhotography/
Just a studious student studying stuff and writing it down.
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