Hospital Visit

Every night as I brush my teeth
I keep replaying the moment before
The hospital called
It was 3:14 am
My eyes opened for no reason
And I sat up in bed
Waiting for something
An aftershock of an earthquake that
Hadn't happened yet
A familiar area code
With an unknown number
Forced my screen awake
Vibrating blue light and persistence
"You need to come home"
I packed up my car again, robotically
And drove 3,006 miles to see her again
My first morning back in LA
It was raining
The city grieved my return with me
But the street names and traffic patterns
Welcomed me back with
Open arms and a familiar heartbeat
Six-feet away
Our arms remained empty
Our chests felt nothing but our own
Caged organs, nervously keeping us alive
It made my bones ache
When I arrived, I was pulled aside
To be debriefed
"The city is sick
It may not recover
Take your time"
And just like that
I was left alone with her
"Thank you for not letting us die alone
Thank you for sitting beside our
Overpriced hospital bed
Holding our hand
Reassuring us that death is nothing to fear
It is the only thing we are promised
Thank you for writing your name
With a clumsy Sharpie
On a guest sticker
For your hair to get stuck to
We needed you here
Thank you for paying $15
To park for two hours
20-minutes of which will be spent
Checking in
Riding a series of elevators
And walking long, sterile hallways
To find our room
We haven't had any visitors in a while
The only company we've had is
The Price is Right in the mornings
And Wheel of Fortune at night
We always get the puzzles wrong
Maybe we should have finished college
Everyone's leaving they say
People are scared we're contagious
And everyone's afraid to die
It's lonely here
There's nothing to do when we can't sleep at night
Just watch the headlights reflect off our windows
Growing and shrinking with distance
We listen to the sounds of our organs
Pushing blood through the veins of our city
Traffic on the 101
And listen to machines tell us
We're still alive
Kind of
Legally
Thank you for the magazines
I hear the cafeteria food isn't too bad
The chocolate milk is delicious
It reminds me of simpler days
Bare feet in wet grass
Sunburned cheeks and tangled hair
The smell of chlorine
When did we stop drinking chocolate milk?
Anyway...
Thank you for not being afraid of me
I know I don't look so well
My eyes aren't familiar anymore
But filled with fear
Distant and cold and brimming with loss
But I'm still me
You can tell by the wrinkles in my forehead
The shape of my ears
The roots of my hair
You just have to trust that my nose and mouth
Are still in their same designated places
Just a little worse for the wear
I just need a little time to get better
To rest
Just like you
Then maybe, I'll be okay
There's room enough for two up here
The sheets are soft and clean
And the nurses are kind
Don't leave me again
My heart is still broken
My lungs are too thin
To survive the sound
Of another goodbye
Stay
Take off your shoes
Unpack your bags
Pay the extra for overnight parking
The zipper on your suitcase broke
Your clothes burst forth
Clamoring for solid ground
The hot pavement they had grown accustomed to
Let them breathe again
Get a dresser
A closet
A lease
Palm trees don't offer as much shade
As oaks crawling with Spanish moss
Or maple trees with precarious golden leaves
Or skyscrapers dripping with window washers
But you've grown pale
Draw the curtains, won't you
Let in some sunshine
It feels nice on my legs
They keep it so cold in here
I understand why you left
It's okay
I had grown weary too
But I was scared when they told me
How bad it was
And you weren't here"
I stared blankly at the linoleum floor
The angular wooden armrests
On the ugly dark blue chairs
Hoping I would think of something to say
Something better than
"I'm sorry
I was scared too
But I didn't know how to come back yet
I had just left"
So, I sat in silence
Thinking
"I called to say hello
But it wasn't enough
I'm no longer afraid
I'm sorry I ever was
Forgive me
I've been tired a long time
I mistook running for rest
And now I'm exhausted
Out of breath
Hands on my knees
Panting
Trying to slow my heart rate
To match the stillness of my feet
But I did it
I got home before the streetlights turned on
And it gets dark so early now"

My mouth finally opened
But I couldn't pull my gaze from a small cluster of dust
Behind the front wheel of the bed
"The nights are longer than they used to be
But that's okay
More time to sleep beneath the stars
To learn that graveyards aren't frightening
To appreciate the sound of our neighbors having dinner
To remember"
Her eyes were closed
And I sat perfectly still
Making sure she was breathing
Then trying not to wake her
Wishing I had said something sooner