Lifelines

I sneak by the room where you sit in your favorite chair – I don’t know if you’re sleeping.

I don’t want you to see I’ve been crying. Again.

I step carefully over the plastic tube that gives you oxygen.

It’s a lifeline and a snare – keeping you trapped, letting you breath.

I brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

Keeping my game face on.

 

Listening to the oxygen pump with its rhythmic heartbeat, strangely soothing.

 

[post 33 in the #blogg100 challenge]

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