"cyanosis" poems
My sister Annick fixed me, locked me in, with cold, blue eyes as she sat down slowly next to me at the table. “I’m a surgeon,” she said, not quite casually, “a board certified surgeon.”
I give her a questioning look.
“I could take your steak knife,” she says, eyeing it, “plunge it into your neck - and oh, sure, there’d be a question or two but in the end - I’d walk away clean.”
“I don’t think,” I start saying…
Tears well to near overflowing in her turquoise eyes. “I came in - officer” she says, sounding stunned and surreal. “She was having a convulsion, she exhibited severe cyanosis, I couldn’t clear her airway, it was a classic tonic-clonic seizure.” she goes on, her voice rising to near panic with the diagnosis.
“You’d never…” I start to interrupt but she gently covers my mouth with her left hand while gathering the handle of the serrated silver steak knife, expertly, into her right hand.
“I attempted to perform a tracheostomy,” she continues in a traumatized but professional voice. “but as I began a transverse incision above the sternal notch,” a tear rolls down her cheek, “Anais suffered a severe generalized-onset seizure and convulsed, forcefully into the knife”
“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” I confess suddenly, as if under oath, in court.
There’s a moment of still silence.
“And WHEN,” she asked, wiping away the tear and turning the knife for a downward ****** “Were you going to MENTION IT?!”
“NOW! - before dinner!” I look around the empty room - for help - for a sympathetic jury. “It was an ACCIDENT! - I’m SORRRRYYYY!” I plead.
My sister slowly sets down the knife and says deliberately, purposefully - like a death sentence: “My Valentino sheer floral-lace top is STAINED.”
”I can FIX it!” I insist in a rush.
“Keep OUT of my room - and my stuff.” she grumbles, “And REMEMBER what I said,” she adds as she pats the knife before getting up and leaving the room.
“I WILL’” I promise to her back.
A second later, my mom sweeps in from the opposite direction.
“What’s up” she asks.
“Nothing” I almost whisper, head down.
Aug 4, 2021
Aug 4, 2021 at 10:04 AM UTC
Kiss of passion laced with mellow hemlock for suicides pleasure in a kiss goodbye,
Entered the realms of dark skies as a kiss goodnight,
A toxic tranquility as drifting away,
Glides softly into serenity via gentle paralysis,
Up and coming in gradual waves as waving goodbye,
Cyanosis catches up, heart and brain devoid of feeling,
What joy,no pain,
Slips from a nightmare,
Shaking screaming
A fiery fury as hemlock laced kiss,
Hits the final spot before dying,
Crying a fatal goodbye,
Crucified as cheerio,
Blessed incarnate no fury,
For all is not lost,
Allegedly death is the last great escapade!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
my skin is producing a cyanosis;
blue brushstrokes swirl across my melanin canvas
because your strong hands and this toxic love is breaking me
and I am drowning in the oblivion of this hue
by griff
Mar 27, 2019
Mar 27, 2019 at 8:50 AM UTC
Want you not to love me, just because you can.
But you can't.
Want you only to love me, because I'm truly lovable.
But you can't.
Huggable, soft and sweet.
I'm worth it, a million dollars it's said.
That's me, not you of course.
You're worth much, much more.
You dance night times.
I dance days.
Together in passion.
Apart a touch sour.
Feed my fire.
I fire back with true poetic inspiration.
Breathtaking in fact.
Have a degree of cyanosis.
Love has a strangle hold.
I'm strangled till I die.
(C) Livvi
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 5:26 AM UTC
Just a glance of you was enough
Rapid serotonin surge giving me great triumph.
Did my heart just skipped a beat
Giving me a premature contractile treat.
Adrenaline galloped into my blood
Spawning multiple contractions that made me look ahead.
The feeling was so deep, that my cerebrum failed to process
lashings of sensory, motor and cognitive chores.
Have waited quite long to say “ I love you”,
But I never knew that my wernicke’s area isn’t giving a cue.
Don’t know how to deal with this,
A shot of ****** may sometimes give me a sigh of bliss
Duplexing happily into morphine, embracing the opioid receptors
It makes a vow to present me a warm flush of euphoria.
Oh my, was I turning blue?
A tint of cyanosis giving him a clue.
Dumbstruck seeing him walking towards me,
I just blabbered ‘are you nuts?’
Reminded by the anaphylactic shock bestowed by peanuts during my infancy.
I have to deal simultaneously with hypoxemia and hypercapnia,
My respiratory muscles giving me a sudden shut down.
And I was choking so hard,
Waking me suddenly from the beautiful dream I had.
Dreams are just the perfect elixir of life,
But in reality, just like opening the Pandora’s box.
Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 11:44 AM UTC