Will he know?
dark death pumping through my veins,
sickness overwhelming my body.
He strokes my back with his gentle hands.
8 months to live…

Will he stay with me?
my once blonde-brown curly hair,
falls to the floor of the shower.
He wraps me in his strong arms.
4 months to live…

Will he still love me the same?
the artificial oxygen filling up my lungs,
cords, cords, so many cords.
His soft hands intertwine with mine.
2 months to live…

Will he miss me?
the bright lights of Heaven shining in my eyes,
my eyes dart from the light to my sweet boy.
His soft lips press against my forehead for the very last time.
It’s time to leave…