Southern Hospitality

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Camera phone image by Dana 

I know you cannot see me in this darkness. You barely have the strength to open your eyes. All your effort is going to your heart and lungs. The moments of numbness are welcome as a respite from your soul’s searing pain. You hear so many voices, some you recognize and some you will never meet. They war with each other — a cacophony of malicious memories, draining demands and well-meaning inspiration. I feel your defeat. I hear it in the monotone of your absent voice. The despair drips from the ink on your paper. Your breathing becomes shallow as you refuse to accept resuscitation.

But you are not alone. Your suffering is mine. My existence coincides with yours. Our misery runs parallel. I will not let you perish in this invisible battle. Close your hand and feel the warmth. It is my hand grasping yours. Inhale and wrap your senses in the honeysuckle. It is my breath sharing life. Close your eyes, let my voice surround you. It is your shield. Hide from life as long as you need. Just allow me to be your shelter.

*I originally posted this in May 2015. Seems very appropriate now.

3 thoughts on “Southern Hospitality

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