The Eyes of Death

So that you wouldn't die so undignified, I wanted to force a black rose down your throat, so that the thorns would pierce your larynx & silence the animal noises;

a language capable of expressing only pain & existence, both belonging to you alone.

Your cells were in rebellion:

First, they conquered your lungs, before taking your liver & then, traversing your spine, they laid siege to your brain:

dead pixels in your irises, made me think of machinery, but technology doesn't feel pain.

Hours dragged past like sandpaper against glass.

I held your hand, sat by the bedside as you died, until suddenly, what remained of you sat upright & pulled me close enough to hear your last words…

& that's when I saw it, in the final moment of your lucidity:

the eyes of death staring back at me.