I was in the room when she passed,
We were so worried she'd awaken
Scared and in pain with 5 minutes left.

How do you reconcile 79 years in 5 minutes

I do not know,
So we called for more drugs.

Please ease her passing.
Please.

She quieted,
Heartbeat slower and slowed.
I swallowed.

My tongue wasn't dry,
But my throat felt like it was collapsing.

I did not touch her skin

A prenuptial funeral, held with a living body
In a room full of grieving persons.

I blinked.
59 bpm went to 34
62 then 29
31 beats per minute now.

A piece of me is waiting for her to suddenly stand
And take a bow for the magic trick.
I'm oddly optimistic.

I quietly recognise that I'm never optimistic.

I stared.
24 bpm for 3 seconds now
14 and the alarms have been ringing for ages?
But I've only heard them now.

A hand wraps around my legs.
I feel wetness on my left thigh.
It's my mother.

I haven't seen her cry since I was 5.

12 bpm it screams.
The ventilator kicks up a fuss.
I stare.
If I don't lose a moment, she isn't gone.

No one is coming to save her, the back of my brain said.

9 now.

I swallowed,
It tasted like sawdust and I still refused to cry,
I'd blink.
I can't, I've cried too much already.
My tongue is too large for my throat.

I don't blink as I watch her chest slow.
I can't swallow. My eyes burn. But I wouldn't blink.

Refused to show weakness while my mother sobbed.

0.
I blinked as it struck me,
Like her hand on my shoulders as a send off.
A life has passed, and I forgot to swallow.

My mouth still smelled like sawdust, no matter how many tears I tasted.