| » Poem: Losing Crystal |
Losing Crystal
written by chiqlette55507:04 AM 2/24/05She had stopped wanting to live weeks ago.
She had stopped wanting to die only days ago.
And now, she lay looking at the ceiling.
She was dying.
Fourteen,
Tied down to a board in an ICU unit.
She will lose her life, she has lost her freedom.
I sat next to her and held her hand.
She hadn't spoken to me,
Her best friend, and she was dying.
And once, just once,
She turned her face to me.
This is it she said,
And she looked at the ceiling once more.
No, Crystal. You're fourteen. You're too young to...
And then I realized that she would never answer me again.
I watched the monitor above her head flat line.
I didn't hear the alarm that must have rang,
But I could see the faces of nurses and doctors press in
On us through the fishbowl of glass.
I sat and held her hand as tears rolled down my face.
I felt the neck of my tee shirt wetten as it caught the tears.
I don't remember saying anything as they took her body.
They didn'd try to revive her still heart,
They had all given up on her a long time ago.
They didn't do an autopsy, they knew.
She had died from iron poisoning.
I can still see the inside of her arms,
And the sick green color that had shown through the pale skin.
And at her funeral I told a story of her last days.
I had never left her side as she withered away
Her family thought I knew her best.
I told of her veracity in life,
Her strength in death.
I told of her love and her passion and her soul
I told how a body could never contain her spirit.
I told them that long after the last shovelful of dirt
Emptied itself over her casket,
She would live on.
Because you can't keep Crystal in a wooden box. |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
I wrote this poem after losing my best friend to suicide. The after affects of the drugs she had taken were what killed her, not the actual suicide attempt. The hardest part was watching her stop wanting to die, but being unable to do anything to stop it. And so, after we lowered her into her grave, after the last Gloria had been sung, and after the last bit of dirt had been poured over her grave, we still wept. And the truth of the matter is, the tiny blonde body she resided in while here with us was never really big enough for her soul.
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This Poem has been viewed 476 times
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| » Comments / Feedback | by Je_c_dez (3-15-2005 - 02:39 AM)
| Oh my flippen gosh that was like really neat and terribly sad. *sighs* hmmmm well okay then bye
PeAcE!!! |
by JuhyouXKaze15 (4-1-2005 - 05:37 AM)
| OH my... I am so sorry about your friend. This was a very sad poem. May God bless you and your friend. |
by another_broken_soul (4-4-2005 - 11:06 PM)
| chiqlette555-
You have an amazing power and ability to move a reader with the images and feelings that your words provoke. Though I don't know you, I am truly sorry for your loss. I can't imagine what that must have been like. If you'd like to talk more, drop me a U2U. I'd really like to get to know you.
-Beth (another_broken_soul) |
by (guest) (4-5-2005 - 02:25 AM)
| very sad my simpathies to you and your friend mystic
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