Edge of My Bed
Edge of My Bed
I’m still lying on the edge of my bed
And inches away from the floor
The clock is about to strike midnight
But I can’t walk out that door
Cause the condition’s the same,
nothing else has changed
It’s the same place he was before
And she throws more weight on your shoulder
The weight you can’t shoulder anymore
Yet you know he can see everything
He’s nodding, he’s shaking,
He’s breaking through to speak his mind
While you’re led into his room
You wave your arms like you’re blind
Cause you want to hold him and take him
And drown our sorrows in bottles of wine
But they say that they are still unsure
What’s keeping him locked and helpless
And strapped to the tubes in his veins
While you hold back your goodbyes
And prepare for more of the same
The lights flashing and blinking on
As their terms still echo in your brain
And you know that he’s in there somewhere
While you’re still struggling to live your live
He’s struggling to breathe, speak, and eat
Each minute passes and you pray he survives
The news takes place and you ignore it
You can’t tell difference from day and night
While your friends say “Keep your chin up.
You can’t live like you have just died.”
But you run out from the room to your house
Running stoplights and stop signs
To fall asleep to silence between the walls
And praying the phone stays silent too
You can’t deal with any more calls
Another hour passes, another minute passes
Another second passes and you’re awake
And it’s because you’re afraid to fall
-Copyright 2009: Carter Tachikawa