beep*                    beep          beep

The constant hum assures us you're alive,
yet is a reminder of how close you are to
vanishing before our eyes; a steady sequence
to make sure we realize how fragile we all are.

I used to wonder why people
hated the hospital; I thought it
was a place for life and healing.
I now know it is an unwanted
ending in an all too familiar
place for far too many. A young
man's next breath is placed in
the hands of a man who is
performing from memory and
who is thinking about the next
life he has to save. Nurse's
faces transform from animated to
burdened as the days progress,
and their eyes have a sadness to
them when they greet you by name.
The air lingers in your chest long
after you leave; it's heavier than it
should be, weighed down with
whispers, tears, and last breaths.

Is it prolonging life or suffering?

Are we saving her or us?

Do we come here to live or to die?