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Tiffany Sep 2014
I pace along the cold, sterile halls, the stench of cleaning supplies and death invading my senses. I struggle to keep my breathing even. I can’t break down here. I have to keep it together. I can feel the burn of the nurses’ sympathetic glances like an iron, leaving their marks of pity seared into my flesh. Their hushed whispers drift to my ears and I clench my eyes against the tears threatening to stream down my face.

They don’t know what they’re talking about. They don’t know about the promise you made me; that when this was all over we’d walk out of this cesspool of disease together. I take a deep breath and lean against the wall for support. My heart feels as though its on the verge of shattering, each breath sends waves of piercing pain into my chest. I wrap my arms around myself, hoping to hold myself together, to keep the pieces of my soul from crumbling apart.
The ring resting on my left hand seems to weigh a thousand pounds, as I look down at the diamond glimmering weakly under the fluorescent lighting. I stare at that ring, searching for the answers of what the future holds for us.

I’m still staring at that **** ring when the doctor finds me.

“Mrs. Payne?” I hear a voice call gently. I jump slightly, looking up into a pair of concerned grey eyes.

“It’s Ms. Roberts,” I correct him softly. “We’re getting married in the fall.” my voice is so quiet, I’m not sure if he heard me or not. I’m not sure why, but I have to make sure he understands when the wedding is; so no matter what he tells me, he knows you’ll be there to take me as your wife in just a few weeks.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Roberts,” he says. “If you follow me, I’ll take you to your fiance.” I nod my head robotically and walk stiffly beside him through the double doors which had been sealed shut for what seemed an eternity. He leads me to a closed door and pauses before turning the handle. He studies my face as words pour from his mouth and I nod my head methodically, not hearing a syllable. All I can think of is you waiting on the other side, with that crooked grin you save just for me.

“Do you understand what I’ve told you ma’am?” the doctor asks.

“Of course,” I say, smiling weakly and he frowns slightly but finally opens the door. I rush inside and with one look at the bed I feel my stomach drop and the world spins around me.

Your skin is deathly pale, lacking the natural glow that always seems to surround you. Tubes and wires connect you to the many machines sitting nearby, almost as if you’re a human pin cushion. I move to take a step forward and feel my knees buckle.  The doctor grabs me around the waist and leads me to the chair by your side. I sit down heavily and vaguely hear him mention that he’ll be back in a moment. It’s as if my entire world is collapsing in this one moment.

We’re completely alone now and I allow myself to really look at you. Your face is so peaceful, lacking the pain that’s twisted your handsome features for so long now. I wonder what you’re dreaming of, if you’re even dreaming at all. I reach a shaking hand out to touch you and cry out at how cold you are. I entwine my fingers through yours and squeeze hard, begging you silently to wake up and tell me how ridiculous I’m being. You always were the reasonable one, talking me down whenever I let my imagination get the better of me. However, the longer I sit there, the longer I listen to the sound of your heart monitor, the more I doubt what you said.

I feel a single tear slide down my cheek and bring our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss against your skin. The doctor is back now, followed by the nurses and their looks of idiotic compassion. As if they could possibly understand what is happening. He puts a hand on my shoulder and tells me it’s time. Time for what? I keep my eyes trained on your face, waiting to see those warm brown eyes of yours meet mine and sooth the pain away.

But your eyes stay shut and suddenly I hear the sound of your heart flat line. I watch as what little tension there was in your face fades into nothing. I watch the moment death lead you away from me. The nurses try to comfort me and lead me away, but I can’t leave you. I clutch your hand against my chest and feel my shoulders shake. There’s no stopping it this time. You’ve left me. You were my world, my everything and now I have nothing. The sobs wrack my entire body as I let go of the fight I had left. You told me you would always be here.

*You lied.
Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
Nope.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXCVI)


I lick my finger slowly, with a sense
In closing as of stealing frosting, pale
As aught compare, th'espresso's foam detail
Tinged subtly with milk's sweetness for intents,
Like that finale suited for it hence,
The rainy blacktop half dried in betrayl,
While minutes tiptoe by on wings more frail
Than insects' glassy touch we note from thence.
Prepare their lunch with baggies for as twere
Thin cleanliness, cuz honey's sticky to
A fault; cube our potato like in tour
What, eh?  I tossed my brother's typed note, knew
Not that twas worth aught, and discuss how poor
Tis that all's typed, not writ by hand.  And you?

21Mar19b
Interesting thought, eh?
Jenny Gordon Apr 2017
Once upon a time we had the hymnal propped by the kitchen sink so's I could learn; years later Mum would sing along with me, and now...I like never but once in a blue moon dare to sing aloud, for missing her to tears.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLVII)


What's happened to--me?  Rainy hours detail
Thet eye with silver's touch while green lawns fence
The minutes fog obscures by vague suspense
With softest carpets rolled out to avail,
And I'm not erm, my own in sheer betrayl;
Erst naked trees lost to mists' whitish sense
Of yonder, I could shiver, and do hence,
Cuz in a blink I'm his upon that scale.
One comment like my wont five days ere, poor
As what?  now he distracts aught hours 'til through
Suggestion I am giggling, sober, tour
His deepest sorrows, and maunt say he'd woo?!
Of course, I'm better searching violets, fer
All that.  Let purple wink low, saying we knew.

05Apr17b
Hyacinths, violets are classically known along with purple as signifying sorrow, the former I've seen rendered as "hyacinth/ai/ai--" like wailing.  And I love them, to be certain, or is that to say the least?
Jenny Gordon Feb 2017
If you're really good I might let you see them, that is, if I can find the pointy-toed knitted pink preemie booties some coworker's wife gave my parents....




(sonnet #MMMMMMCXX)


Suppose I'm but a nymph whose sprite in frail
Excuse wars, tangled by long cherished thence
Auld loves, and sorrows which I canna hence
Shrug off.  My father aye, and brothers hail
Me as so oddly wont to in betrayl
Don effervescence, whiles griefs own my sense
Of whither, glad to see this warm eye whence
These yellowed fields bask, dead, as if'd avail.
I dabble in the thought of Death as twere,
Like twould thus ransom me from here, though blue
Skies whisper to my soul of yonder fer
All that.  Yea, I hate aught, but love each too.
Or praps I hate myself cuz joy is poor
And crimnal, left a prisner, whence I rue.

01Feb17b
You know I WAS born with these elf ears?  Yes.
Jenny Gordon Jul 2016
Happily he deals very gently and understandingly with me.  I love him.



(sonnet #MMMMMDCCXCV)


Not mists.  Thet ghostly whiteness as a veil
Down where the valley shivers in suspense,
Flirtatious winds' moist breath stale in the sense
Tis muggy ere dawn cast off Sunday's pale
Thought of more hallowed things, and in a frail
Excuse I button that blouse Mum gave thence
To me, to die as seeing her worn face hence,
Those precious eyes, and hate me in betrayl.
Oh Robert!  How I want to scream as twere
Until the universe is shattered to
Sheer nothingness.  But then as now in poor
'Scuse, no sound can come out. And I tell you
Cuz only you seem understand.  Mists tour
Forsooth, and I still breathe, pray, love you too.

24Jul16a
Not like I ever want to "get over" Mum's death.
Jenny Gordon Oct 2016
I'd show you the black and white photographs of this allegedly cherubic 1 yr-old....



(sonnet #MMMMMCMXC)


Oh me!  How diamonds sparkle in th'exhale
As winds flirt on the lake's clear *****, whence
Blue skies thus mirrored  as erst wont, a sense
Of what? half wrestles in me on that scale
Cuz why aren't we together now, to hail
This bounty in each other's arms?  Leaves thence
All whispring as their boughs rock, yellow hence
Mocks joy as I see Mum in sheer betrayl.
We used to walk down to the valley, tour
The yard lost in whatever, and I knew
Our time was short.  But I don't weep for her
Today as yet, cuz who's distracted to
Effect is also quite obliv'ous.  Poor
As saying is:  I could wish you were here too.

23Oct16b
...sitting quietly on a kitchen chair in her Sunday dress, with powdered sugar on her face and fingers, one hand holding a half eaten mini doughnut, and the other the lid of that dozen doughnuts box open halfway, and why did my parents just dote on that?
Jenny Gordon Mar 2016
(sonnet #MMMMMCDXXXII)


How rain's nigh ghastly light haunts vague suspense
Ere darkness yield to after.  In the pale
Note follwing, whiter morsels chase th'exhale
Which moves atwixt these firs as if pretense
Could not decide oer snowbanks' worn intents
And newer puddles thinking of betrayl,
This fragile romance in surreal tones' bail
Lost in the flurry of just whither hence.
I want to ask you what you're doing fer
All we have overnight made me and you
Erm, us and we.  And scared but driving, you're
Not one bit daunted either.  What'd we do?
I've heard of whirlwind stories.  Aren't such poor?
You'd kiss my tear-washed face, and say we knew?

03Feb16
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srzjOJjBHmc]Mebbe when we can do it tangled up in each other.  *needless to say, he likes this one.
idk  Aug 2013
didnt know
idk Aug 2013
looking into her eyes
i could tell it told a stroy
a rare thing
told me everything she was afraid of
that look on her face told it all
but most importantly
the one thing i remember as clear as crystal
those blue eyes that drowed my sorrows away and made me think of something
someone
other than myself for once
they told me id never understand
little did she understand ive been through the same she'd been trough
fought the same battles
lingered apon the same questions and wondered the same thoughts
pictured the same scenerios in my head that we wanted to happen
and even thought about things the same way
it was perfect
i knew her just as well as she knew me
from just her eyes i could see the bittter past she wasnt willing to share
and the eager future she was excited about continuing
but loosing hope because everyone had shot down her dreams
fearless but had the courage that someday shed let all of the bad thoughts go
shed get rid of the deomns for good
she win the game of life
she knew she had it in her
the resononing behind becoming a better person for herself
felt good because she knew it wasnt for anybody else
although looking into her eyes i saw
hatred
jealousy
betrayl
traits i noticed
things id been familiar with and i just wanted to tell her weveall been there
to not trust every single person you meet
to take off that elecrtic smile that brightened up the room
to not open up so easily to those who were being nosey and desperate to break into the source of someone elses problems to cast away the shawdows of theirs for just a  
moment
to not run off with the boy who had the pretty smile and differet personality because he ends up being the same guy as the rest
to tell her to turn around and notice the nice guy
the guy who cared about her all along who would do anything for her
protect her and fight for her no matter what
but no matter what she wouldnt listen
she wanted the bad guy
figured he knew a way to make the  
pain go away
and indeed he did
which made more pain present in those eyes that were once as blue as the ocean
turn as black as the sky on a night there are no stars to look opon
i wanted to tell her all the things growing up i wish i  knew
looking into her eyes i saw that reflection staring back at me and telling myself
"im that little girl that once was you"
Jenny Gordon Oct 2018
I have no idea why that first line came to mind while I was indeed cleaning.  I've not read Austen in years, nor watched movies in months.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCDXLI)


Jane Austen's drawing rooms I'd feign avail
Me of, whose wainscot's polished oak is dense
With import as the papered walls from hence
Look smug; yes, take a turn in sheer betrayl
Across those gleaming floors, dressed ah, to scale
In empire-waist' floor-length is it pretense?
And for the *** of tea I'll sip for sense,
The dainty patterns on those walls' sweet bail.
Don't ask me why.  In scrubbing bathrooms' tour,
I could not settle on just whither to
Until that note piqued languid thoughts as twere.
I've been there so oft for discussions through
Each novel, t'would be quite refreshing, poor
As fiction's vain suggestion, if'd could do.

11Oct18a
What's left to add?
Jenny Gordon Oct 2016
Maybe I'll clean up my act, just to be good.  It did give Shaun the chance to look deeply and most mournfully (nicely empathetic) into my eyes once upon a time ages ago...



(sonnet #MMMMMCMLXXIX)


I'll wear my heart upon this sleeve in pale
Excuse as oft as suits my fancy, whence
Ye all kin chide to no avail from hence,
Whiles I rebuff aught notions in betrayl
Of better sense, cuz nothing here is bail.
Or if some fragile thought seems vague defense,
Tis vanquished ere I've managed to gain thence
A foothold, and I'll be thus stripped and frail.
Ah, love.  Do thou but tempt me with the poor
Suggestion, ye kin laugh 'til ye are blue,
I'm prey, tears dried until tis proven fer
Whatever that twas aye, a jest.  I'll rue
Me folly, cherry-cheeked, and pray whiles your
Much wiser sense erm, coughs.  And yes, I knew.

20Oct16
Nobody, last I checked.  And yes, I'll work the harder on being more polite, was that?
My dear friend you are the betrayl in enimies,
My dear love you are the struggle in life,
My dear heart you are the untrusted in gossip,
My dear world I will watch you fall,
I will watch as we collapse,
Together.
Jenny Gordon Mar 2019
THIS:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jCHL9b6nBXA



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCII)


Watch Paul McCartney's erm, debut of thence
That soulful number "Yesterday." and they'll
What, eh?  If's not the song itself t'avail,
How 'bout John Lennon's snide remark for sense
To Ringo, was't?  As if there was fr'intents
This rivalry which could not in betrayl
Be satisfied to have Paul up (sans bail?)
Alone on stage where all the girls cooed hence.
As if they did not cry for John in tour,
And that by name, he must begrudge it too?
I'm just a child in sheer compare as twere,
Yet "all grown-up" now to effect, see through
Their boyish ways and fall in love, though's poor.
While "Yesterday's" notes never fail to woo.

22Mar19b
--what I prefer about the full performance over this mere clip, is the tiny details, ie all John's behaviour.
The Full Performance:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EE11Zp_KWtg  
The Beatles Blackpool Night Out, ABC Theatre, Blackpool, United Kingdom (Full Performance)
Jenny Gordon May 2017
and you said:  "I hope you like chocolate."



(sonnet  #MMMMMMCCCLI)


I've not had choclate, nor a taste, in pale
Excuse, for that in days, perhaps cuz hence
You called yourself that, and my hunger thence
Was only for whom stole aught else, t'avail
Me of:  just you.  And oh! how that detail
In lieu of packaged squares, eats me and sense
Out of both home and hearth, ne crumb to fence
The **** is't? yet smudges in betrayl.
Oh, Adrian!  There I must leave off.  Were--
What?  Savour ah, minutest crumbs, roll too
Across your tongue that darkest morsel your
Soul yields itself up to, and ah, foil to
Glint, crinkle, tease, nor but in silver tour
Hold lo, exquisite heights:  what's I love you?

17May17a
Last I checked, chocolate merely demands you eat it.  Oh wait, it doesn't even do that, kick me.

— The End —