The Eleventh Hour

June 30, 2010
I have died so many times
It happened again tonight
They told me I had to go
I didn't know what do, so


I got in my car and drove
The twenty-two miles home
There, I took a shower
Remembering your blood in the eleventh hour

Of one month, two weeks, five days ago
Passed out in the moon's glow
The crimson seeping onto my skin
Blood pouring from where my lips had been

On your face only minutes before
Now the only thing I see is gore
When I shut me eyes, but I used to see you
Now I see your body, black and blue

I thought I would die right then
But I took you in my arms and I ran
Back into my car and cursed who did this to you
But I knew what I had to do

So I turned the key in the ignition
Raced to the capital H like it was a government mission
In the parking lot was where I almost lost it
Because the oozing was making me sick

But I sucked it up
And I picked you up
I ran inside the automatic doors
My feet pounding away on the floor

The doctors came rushing at me
But I was scared to let them take you from me
They strapped you down onto a stretcher
The nurse assured me you'd get better

I wanted to go with you into the ER
But I didn't get too far
The nurse took me to a blue plastic chair
I sat, my eyes closed, seeing red in your blond hair

Wringing my hands, I tried to wash it out
Tried to get the ugly stain out
But I'm afraid this dye is permanent
It'll take time to get rid of it

All night I waited to hear something
About how you were doing
My eyes were drooping
My vision was blurring





















































































































Finally, the doctor came out
I asked if him if he got the blood out
And he said yes, but you'd be asleep
For possibly all eternity

They called your mother
She came up, I went home and took a shower
I came back in the middle of the night
To see if you were alright

The process repeated for four weeks
Waking to sweat soaked sheets
Screaming “I'm sorry, I'm sorry”





Because it was all my fault, really

It was all my fault because I should have
Said that I loved you so bad




That night, but I had to keep on my mask
Twenty-eight days I died, my world only black

But then one day you woke up
And were sent to rehabilitation and told not to give up
You didn't, but I never visited when you were awake
The only thing I saw was your sleeping face

But then one day you showed up at my place
And asked where I had been for so many days
I was drunk and fell upon my knees
If you were broken, and I am weak

Why must we continue with these secrets?
And so I told you I had fallen to pieces
And you told me so had you but it was okay
You had snuck out to see me like in the old days

You kissed me and I kissed you back
It was so perfect and there was nothing that you lacked
The night seemed not to end
Until I passed out with you, skin on skin

When I woke up with a hangover
I felt you breathing and felt better
I remembered it all, but it was a school day
I woke you up and drove you home, I heard you say

“Thank you, for the drive and saving me”
I thought you were crazy
I told you how wrong you were, because it was all my fault
And you told me you knew everything about that night, even the walk

Down the wet street
Holding hands and me calling you baby
And you told me it wasn't my fault you had gotten beat up
Over someone's obsession with us

You hugged me and kissed me goodbye
Your mom was running to us in the drive way like the sky
Was falling, so I told you to go get ready for school
And I'd make sure your mom and I stayed cool

She tried to be understanding
But it was obvious that she was breaking
She told me I had to go
I didn't know what do, so

I got in my car and drove
The twenty-two miles home
There, I took a shower
Remembering your kiss in the eleventh hour





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Felicia said...
Jul. 24, 2010 at 3:45 pm

oh my wow! tgis thing should win an ward or something very close to it. i got teary and scared and even got shivers as i read this masterpoece poem.

 

this just shows how many poems whould go into the magazine but never make it

 
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