by: stacy
six months ago,
i had a dream that she'd died.
i asked you non-challantly
if you'd take me to the hospital
so i could non-challantly
check up on her.
and we non-challantly drove
to Edward's Cancer Center.
and we non-challantly joked
about how horrible COD is-
how we didn't want to start a new semester.
and we non-challantly went to her floor,
and the nurse non-challantly told us
that we'd have to hold on for a few moments.
and we non-challantly took a seat
in the waiting room, side by side with
a buzzing vending machine,
for those who could actually stomach anything
in places like this.
maybe that's why it looked so yellowed
and neglected.
and we non-challantly made small talk, while
i non-challantly played with my newly pierced
nose's ring. the ring that i lost later that night
in a pile of salted, snotty tissues.
and all this non-challant time,
she was dying two rooms away,
taking in her last breaths,
and letting out her last words,
while i non-challantly told myself,
"it was just a dream".
