i want you near me.
close enough to hear my heart beat.
you need me.
not to be conceited,
it's just been proven
repeatedly;
you need me.
just like i need you.
you're the only one i want to cling to
first thing in the morning when i wake up.
i wish i could take the credit,
you know,
claim it like "i saved you"
sadly, though,
none of that'd be true.
About the Creator
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson3 days ago in Fiction
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