I sit on the porch
And think about you.
Remember wanting to help,
But there was nothing more I could do.
You lived in a world
Stricken with pain and pills.
Where people would look
Deep into your eyes.
They would see your pain and suffering.
They would then turn and walk away.
Yet somehow, you knew
This wasn’t because of you.
We couldn’t bear your agony.
To see your pain was too much.
You never saw us cry.
You never heard our prayers.
But somehow you knew they were there.
Your father sat with you as long as he could.
You were his only son.
When he left the hospital
He cried for hours; his pain still hasn’t ceased.
Your sister brought you gifts.
And flowers from friends colored your room.
Everyone came to see you.
But no one wanted to say goodbye.
I often pondered how so much darkness,
Brought you so much happiness in life.
In the end, their spikes and chains,
Comforted me, and shared my pains.
You lay in that cold, surgical room
So barren and sterile.
I sat by your bed.
With lights dimmed, oh so low.
You were so brave.
You knew you were to die.
No one could convince you
To not say goodbye.
I turned my head.
I couldn’t bear to look…
To see that tear roll down your cheek
As you strained to smile.
You told me,
“Goodbye isn’t forever.”
But as I held your hand
I wished you wouldn’t go.
I whispered a prayer
As you drew your last breathe.
I remembered that it had been years
Since I last held your hand.
You opened your eyes
And stared deep into mine.
Whispered, “Mom, I love you.”
Then you died.
I tried to be strong.
But the tears overcame me.
You may have been a gothic teenager,
But you still were my baby.