The ceasing of breath did not announce (but I saw it cast its shadow on you just a day before) the lines that spiked now lie flat it all was silent now no beeps or warning tones to awaken those beside you. Half-dead, half-alive. I had stood gazing at what had become of the simple desires that had shone in your eyes not many needs but morsels of time we failed to spend. Now hungry. Those eyes never quite opened for weeks you struggling lay braving and fighting torn between worlds the gods of death and those of us that lived. You stirred not. I know you are gone but it is just a spell next door somewhere you drift in a world just like this one or perhaps happier. I hope. The emptiness and shadows gnaw slowly at the clock the minute lingers for us like a dew-drop waiting to fall the days remain hollow without your child-like curiosity. And tantrums.
It will never be the same you took the anchor away we talk though and it rips me when Daddy calls me by your name though the curtains have fallen we live to tell the tale.
© Sandhya Suri