She closes her eyes and lays her head to the side.
Her body feels of bricks
Like she’s carrying the weight of the night sky.
As the breathing machine does its cry,
she sighs, there goes the air she couldn’t afford to lose.
And her head hangs low.
Morphine dancing through her blood stream, eyes closed, preparing for a vacation to paradise.
Beep breathing machine, beep.
She lives in Cancer.