Was/Can't/Is...True

You promised you would take me to that movie on Friday,
And help me move into my dorm,
And interview the boy I bring home for Thanksgiving,
And be right by my side for my wedding,
You told me it was gone; that you were going to be fine.
But now I’m collapsed in this waiting room,
Holding my breath every time a white coat patters by.
Fingers crossed and knuckles white,
A crater erupts in my stomach
As the white coat approaches.
My mind races and desperation strikes.
A dark abyss clouds my once hopeful vision.
He opens his mouth,
And my cheeks wet with salty tears.
The staccato words pierce the air.
I see his lips moving,
But I hear nothing.
I inhale deeply,
But am left breathless.
It can’t be true.