I See You In the ICU

I see you there in the I. C. U. You were all bloodied and broken, crumpled up like a used up napkin. I had seen you before you were like this and your bones jutting out from under your skin definitely isn’t an improvement. The sounds you’re making are unfortunate and the doctor’s can’t give you anything for it. You’re bleeding too much. Before this, you had impeccable, long black hair and tanned skin the color of a ripe peach. I would have liked to know how your skin felt, but I never approached and soon, I may never feel it while it’s warm.

There’s this fellow sobbing at your side. His lips are moving, though I can’t hear what he’s saying. He’s a handsome sort of fellow and I want to believe he’s only crying over a mortally injured sister, but he has blonde hair, Germanic in some way. I want to believe that you wouldn’t go for such pretty dandies like him, but beauty comes to beauty I suppose. Even though he might have had you while you were beautiful, he wouldn’t have you now. Your skull’s smashed in and all you do is cry. At some point, some man in a white coat is going to come by with some papers that amount to nothing less than killing you. They don’t actually pull any plugs. Did you know that? They’ll decide that you can’t be saved and they’ll put you in a chemically induced coma and then they’ll switch off a few switches on your respirator. You’ll suffocate to death. Sorry.

After they pull the blanket over your head, you’ll be mean. Never again will you be beautiful, but I’ve never been nice looking and it really is overrated. Such things that had happened to you wouldn’t happen to an ugly person. No one admires an ugly person. No one would ever go to the lengths I went though to have you for an ugly person. You had felt a chill in your car, didn’t you? That was me. I whispered in your eyes and told you to drive on into oncoming traffic. A little girl is dying down the hall from you and her mother is waiting for her on the other side. A sweet girl like you might feel bad about that. Please don’t. You really had no control over the situation. Please don’t be sore at me for it either. I couldn’t help myself. It is so cold and lonesome on this side and it’s worse when you’re alone. You’ll never have to learn that because I’ll be here with you. I see you there, in the ICU and I see you truly. I see you broken and bleeding, but I would remember you as you were, beautiful. No one else could see you as I do. I see you there in the ICU.