“I can’t breathe,”
She said. Or, at least, tried to say.
I wish I was more distraught,
But I can’t bring myself to be.
They’re words, which elicit feelings,
A plea to elicit an action;
Sentiment with a morbid gravitas.
A quickly dimming light
At the end of a tunnel,
Hold her this way
Not knowing what I can do.
“Forgive me, I love you,”
I whispered, or at least tried to whisper.
For the dead have deaf ears,
And even the sincerest sentiments
Are lost in the silence.