a secondattempt
this is really what it comeds down to
inside my head,just pulses of nerves firing, and I don't see any of it, no not really
I see her fur, black velvet, and coarse, with my fingers woven inbetween as I'm crying on the floor next to her, my baby
she's so fargone, there was nothing we could have possibley done for here, and I'm trying so hard, but on the inside ther's the insescant echo of "murderer, you monster how could you end her life?" HOW COULD YOU, and my knees gave way, so I swayed as her wet nose hit the ground, with a soft thud, one more injection to hate I tell myself,
and this was the best choice the best choice and as my mother asks "is she gone?" and a nod, and I still sit, fingers woven into the black and white....of my baby girl, my one my only unconditional love, my puppy, "is she gone?"
And dad, he takes my hand to lead me to the door, and I wobbled uneasily trying to hold breath crying out "Why hasn't anyone put me out of MY misery? All the pain I've been in?" Every hospital visit sits on my tongue, tasting like stomach acid and salt
does it remind you of everyone else? My mom will ask, and I'll nod, and sniffle and try toact so damn tough, like I always thought they would want me to, like I'd hear everyone's voice that I'd lost in my head one more time telling me not to cry for them, and I just bob my head to her,
yes, it reminds me of them
of who? Of ALL OF THEM I'll reply curtly, of Alex, and Paul, and David, and Oscar, and my grandfather talking about the weather before the collision. Yes it reminds me of death, the process that consumes the thoughts of life everyday that reminds me of my own mortality and my own failing motivation to trudge on. Someone put me out of MY misery. Out ofthe guilt that waltzes slowly in my passing shadows that's muttering "What have you done?" To take a life that is not in your hands, and jesus christ woman WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, and my eyes closed.
I walked away too afraid to shame everyone in their chorus of "Just suck it up" my body too exhausted to mourn anymore, and while I knew slumber was taking me, the warm liquid still coarsed down my cheeks, so unfamiliar and strange I wanted to wipe them away with my bloodsained hands, tainted with eauthansia.
She knew too, the victim. It was in her sad old eyes as she layed her head down, as she protested the barge of the dead for her initial descent, she told me in actions how she understood, how this was okay, it was right, she wanted to be done this time,and I wept, with my hands on her chest as she left the room.
"Is she gone now?"
"Yes, there is no more pain."
inside my head,just pulses of nerves firing, and I don't see any of it, no not really
I see her fur, black velvet, and coarse, with my fingers woven inbetween as I'm crying on the floor next to her, my baby
she's so fargone, there was nothing we could have possibley done for here, and I'm trying so hard, but on the inside ther's the insescant echo of "murderer, you monster how could you end her life?" HOW COULD YOU, and my knees gave way, so I swayed as her wet nose hit the ground, with a soft thud, one more injection to hate I tell myself,
and this was the best choice the best choice and as my mother asks "is she gone?" and a nod, and I still sit, fingers woven into the black and white....of my baby girl, my one my only unconditional love, my puppy, "is she gone?"
And dad, he takes my hand to lead me to the door, and I wobbled uneasily trying to hold breath crying out "Why hasn't anyone put me out of MY misery? All the pain I've been in?" Every hospital visit sits on my tongue, tasting like stomach acid and salt
does it remind you of everyone else? My mom will ask, and I'll nod, and sniffle and try toact so damn tough, like I always thought they would want me to, like I'd hear everyone's voice that I'd lost in my head one more time telling me not to cry for them, and I just bob my head to her,
yes, it reminds me of them
of who? Of ALL OF THEM I'll reply curtly, of Alex, and Paul, and David, and Oscar, and my grandfather talking about the weather before the collision. Yes it reminds me of death, the process that consumes the thoughts of life everyday that reminds me of my own mortality and my own failing motivation to trudge on. Someone put me out of MY misery. Out ofthe guilt that waltzes slowly in my passing shadows that's muttering "What have you done?" To take a life that is not in your hands, and jesus christ woman WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, and my eyes closed.
I walked away too afraid to shame everyone in their chorus of "Just suck it up" my body too exhausted to mourn anymore, and while I knew slumber was taking me, the warm liquid still coarsed down my cheeks, so unfamiliar and strange I wanted to wipe them away with my bloodsained hands, tainted with eauthansia.
She knew too, the victim. It was in her sad old eyes as she layed her head down, as she protested the barge of the dead for her initial descent, she told me in actions how she understood, how this was okay, it was right, she wanted to be done this time,and I wept, with my hands on her chest as she left the room.
"Is she gone now?"
"Yes, there is no more pain."