I’m hanging by a thin thread.
I am failing all the test in my path.
I see fear and anger in her eyes.
Mine shows impatience and defeat.
I’m a stranger she sees everyday.
Fear and anger her companions.
A moment of clarity, so fleeting.
I see my future self in her.
I question God. I plead my case.
I make everything about me.
How much more selfish can I get?
I want time to rewind to before.
In the bedroom, she’s a prisoner.
Her mind sees a hospital room.
She demands to go home, angry.
I tell her she’s already at home.
She screams, shaking the bed rails.
Softly, I try to calm her. She screams.
I raise my voice, my tone rises high.
And made her cringe in fear.
She looks so confused, so lost.
Pleading, she calls for me.
Yet, I’m the stranger she sees.
I leave the room. I need time, away.
I no longer exist. What now?
I am everyone else except me.
Yet, she remembers my full name.
Can anyone explain the irony of this?
By C.E. Pereira