#ThursThreads, week 337

Prompt: https://www.siobhanmuir.com/siobhans-blog/thursthreads-tying-tales-together-week-337

There’s just one more thing I have to do, but I need help doing it. I have no voice anymore, and as far as anyone knows, I’m gone. I lay here in this hospice bed, living on nothing but inertia. The only noise I can make is a moan, though I hardly feel anything to moan about. My arms and legs move, but I no longer control them – involuntary spasms are all that’s left for me now. I still void my bladder and my bowels, though someone has to clean me up, and I’m not sure where it is coming from. Maybe I’m decaying and losing parts of me that I don’t need anymore. There’s just one more thing I have to do. Can they see it whey they look in my eyes? When they pull back my eyelids and see the pupils retract, can they see my final words writ in uncried tears? I love you, I ache to say. I want to cry it out loud to the heavens, the way I did in my every action for decades. I want to reach out and pull everyone close fiercely and gently, to let them know they still matter to me. But I cannot. I will waste away to nothing, my last words lost in a delirious babble late one night. I will die soon, though not soon enough, though too soon for forever. There’s just one more thing I have to do, but I will never do it.

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