Screeching tires, blinding lights, smashing glass. The whole ordeal took maybe 5 minutes. Drivers slow down to peek and observe Then speed down the road. But, when you’re laying there in the glass and noise. It’s not the same. The paramedics came. Remain calm. Breathe. Don’t close your eyes. Stay with us.8 Breathe. The only thing I can think about is my license. Two Words
They’re missing from my ID. I didn’t check the box.
The paramedics are talking. Mumbling. They’re underwater. That’s not good.
I want to be an ***** donor* I say. They pause. One moment. Dave looks at me. His name is embroidered on his uniform. Is uniform the right word?
I want to be an ***** donor. I say again.
It won’t come to that Dave assures me. His smile is weak.
Write it down I say Firm. Dave shrugs and takes out his clipboard. I watch him write ***** Donor.
I sigh, relieved. Anything else? Dave asks. He looks at his partner He’s covered in blood. My blood. That’s not good.
Yes. I tell Dave. He gets his pencil ready. He smiles. It’s half sincere. He’s worried. Last will and testament smile. I want to be an ***** Donor. Got that. Dave says. The lights are blinding. I smell and taste metal. That’s not good. What to say? Everything. I want to say everything. I think of my mom Clutched hands White knuckles Sitting, pacing, crying The waiting room Green and white, calming colors She is red Her face from lack of sleep From crying Stark against the calm walls. I think of my mother and breathe.
Take everything you can. Take my body I don’t need it anymore. Take it and tell my mother the Good It will do. Take my feet And tell my mother About every mile they will walk. Tell her they will dance in homes To silly music and skip through fields And trudge through mud. They will scale mountains And swim through oceans. They will burn on hot asphalt And curl up in Satin sheets. Take my feet.
Take my hands And tell my mother About every handshake Every high five Every hand they hold. Tell her they will be covered in paint And chocolate and dirt and clay. My fingers will run through hair And sand and silk. They will give hugs and caresses And love to show they understand. Take my hands.
Take my eyes And tell my mother About everything they will see. Tell her they will see Sunrises and sunsets Mountains, oceans, and airports. They will sparkle with laughter And shine with tears. Tell her that someone will Fall in love with them And they will grow Old and wise. Take my eyes.
Take my ears And tell my mother About all what they will hear. Tell her they will rock out at concerts And hear lullabies sung for children. They will find magic in the spoken word and will hear love and hate. Tell her about every heart beat, Sigh of content, and bolt of laughter They will hear. Take my ears.
Take my nose And tell my mother About everything it will smell. Tell her it will catch wisps of Perfume and Cologne Mingling with coffee and bread From a Paris café. It will crinkle at the smell of skunks But open wide at the smell of rose. Take my nose.
Take my lips And tell my mother About every sweet kiss. Tell her they will whisper I love you And really mean it. They will stretch with laughter purse with disdain and never make a duck face. They will speak slowly savoring Every syllable of sound And tumble fast over flirty quips Take my lips.
Take my lungs And tell my mother About every breath of air they get. Tell her they will feel crisp autumn winds And heavy humid summer breezes. They will heave and pant in laughter And in despair. They will catch and gasp and get the hiccups. They will bellow leaving No song unsung. Take my lungs.
Take my heart. Please take my heart And tell my mother About every single beat. Tell her when it moves fast Or slow. Tell her it will be consumed With passion And blaze with ecstasy. Tell her it will grow And grow And grow And grow Tell her it will never forget her. Tell her it will give someone A new start. Please, take my heart. Please take my heart. Take my kidneys, liver, spleen, stomach, and appendix. Whatever you need take it from me.
I want to be an ***** donor Because I want to live.