The miles they must've traveled

It's been 1 month since the doctors told him he only had days left.

No one expected to be standing around a hospital bed instead of the dinner table that night.

No one expected it to be this bad.

And when the doctor said days and everyone's tears started pouring left and right

all you heard were waves crashing.

You leaned closer to the window and whispered

"Can you hear them? The miles they must've traveled"

And this time the following year we'll be silent around the kitchen table for a real long time.

We'll talk about the melodies you'd play on the piano downstairs,

the secrets you kept hidden in the creases of your smile,

and the mountains and mountains of homes you'd build just so we'd each fell safe.

No one will mention the cold sweats, the overpowering exhaustion,

or the way your eyes saw things.

Because that last one would be too much.

We wont speak a word of the fights or the anger we ever encountered.

Because with you those were fleeting.

But your hands and that ox heart you had,

those are perpetual.

Once you leave you wont be the diseased.

I will be the diseased.

We are the diseased, the ones still living.

Lets put the pronouns to bed darling, hand me the stethoscope so I can find out what's really wrong.

Before it's too late and the doctors are ripping the days away from us.