“come to me,” he said. in this hospital ward, we are all plagued by the same fate. there he sits, writing us off one by one; a cancer in his own right.

“come to me,” he said. the doctors remind me that the bright lights are harsh on any skin tone, and mine is no exception.

“come to me,” he said. will it hurt? will it be like dreaming?

“come to me,” he said. you’ve already taken so many. why do I have to be one of them? why now?

“come to me,” he said. I don’t want to leave; I never want to leave. regardless, he will be the second cancer to take me.

“come to me,” he said. it was time.

I give in to the silence because it will be my home longer than the twelve year’s I’ve spent chasing the sun.

“I will give you rest,” I said. sometimes, you get impatient and you just want to hold some people longer than others.

“I will give you rest,” I said. she will be tanner there, the sun illuminating all of her perfections.

“I will give you rest,” I said. dreaming is just a preview of what is to come. my home is no place for nightmares. that’s what my brother is for.

“I will give you rest,” I said. I know that she is scared, but the other side is greater than anything she could ever imagine.

“I will give you rest,” I said. she is too precious for a world like this; too fragile. she is forever mine, and I have to take her.

“I will give you rest,” I said. it is time.

she gives in to the silence because it will be her home longer than the twelve year’s she’s spent chasing the sun.