Two young persons lie in a shared hospital room. One wants to die, the other wants to live. But when the latter's health plummets unexpectedly, the other can't stop the question from asking itself. "How do you find your strength?" That is, if strength could be defined as the desire to defy death...
I watch you shake,
And pale moon-glow skin
Kissed blue with the force of your grip.
With thin, thread-like fingers,
You fight to hold together.
Your shield of defense
Is oddly, a throat of openness
Against the onslaught of coughs, and desperate moments
Where you think it's your last
And there'll be nothing left,
But finally, the dangers pass.
Breath returns in a quiet whiff,
Your grip slips--
--fatigue washing over, now adrenaline has left.
Grasp your arms--so cold, so thin!
And help lower your back to the mattress again.
The rise and fall of your chest--
--consistent, yet problems still abreast--
--reminds me, too, to breathe, relax and rest.