Iris Says

It’s kind of like watching your worst nightmare unravel right before your eyes, but you can’t wake up. Your eyes are glued so tightly together, and no matter how many times you rub them, or however many times you convince yourself that in a few moments it will all go away...it doesn’t. Iris says that you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming. I never thought it would be true, until now, looking down at her. The tears should be flowing like a faucet, but instead I stand, shocked and in awe at the site before me. I can’t move my arms, legs, or lips. I used to have such a strong grasp on situations like these, I used to be calm, cool, collective.
Iris says all I can breathe is your life, but she’s so weak, and her life is fading so fast. She tries to speak, but she doesn’t have enough energy. She was once so strong, and she’s been reduced to this.
I bend down next to her and kiss her hand. People lay in bed; sick and weak, every day, but it feels like no one will ever understand this. I try to apologize, but it’s too late. Iris says everything is made to be broken. This is life isn’t it. The tears still aren’t coming, and when I breathe in it’s akin to a knife to the chest. Iris says you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be.
I don’t want to leave her side. I just want to sit, and wait. I sit and wait because away from her side is no one. Away from her side is total loneliness.

Iris says you bleed just to know you’re alive.
Iris says I just want you to know who I am...but she knows. She’s the only one who does.
What Iris doesn’t say is that I’ll miss you, and I am missing you, and that just because this is life...I thought you’d be stronger than it.

Iris says I’d give up forever to touch you...and as I’m squeezing your hand...I know that you feel me somehow.