If this chair could talk

I walked out of my car, I stared at the building for a while. I could feel the pain going through my heart and tearing it apart.So many things were going through my mind, and I couldn't stop thinking, not even for a second.  But I walked in any way to see you; it's where I knew all my questions would be answered.  When I walked in, I saw many like her.  Some were in a wheelchair, and some were in a bed as the doctor tried to save their lives. I walked by them, then went to the room that used to have life. Energy. Hope. I wished that room was still full of life today, But instead, day by day, the hope and life have left the room. Now until nothing is left. Only silence and death.  I opened the door then put my first step in, and I realized that the light was off and so I turned it on, but it does not matter because the room will always be dark no matter how much light we put in. This room to me will always be dark, and every time I would enter it would bring back painful memories;  Memories that could swallow my strength, and leave me weak, with heartache I turned my back to the bed, touching the sheet imagining she was there but knowing that she wasn't and that I was staring at an empty bed  I took the pillow and smelled it, maybe the smell of her shampoo was still there, and her perfume. I could smell her aroma but was it was not strong like it used to be.   There near her, there was a picture of the two of us. I stared at it, and tears rolled down my eyes. Near the photo, there was you, the one thing that didn't move, this chair, who saw everything.  I got down then walked over to you, hoping you would tell me what exactly happened. Were there from the beginning till the end; you know how it all started and how it all ended. You were the only one who saw the pain and the sorrow when no one was looking.  The pain when her body couldn't handle it after doctor and doctor. You saw how her body was becoming weak while slowly fading away.  You saw the fear; you saw the fake smile, the nettle, and each one of them and how painful it was. You saw, and you knew how much she needed me and how I was too late. I was too late    You knew the saddenest that she was holding inside every time she said to herself it was all going to end.  So please talk to me. What did you see when she took her last breath? Her last tears? Her extreme pain? Her last goodbye.   You don't know how much I wish that I was you; I know it sounds silly and foolish for someone to want to be a chair -but if I had the chance to see all of this, then I wouldn't mind.  If only you could talk, but you just can't. I am sorry that I couldn't be there with you in your suffering, I love her, and I miss her. Good-Bye 

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741