The Cheated Death, Death Cheated **trigger warning**
Trigger warning: Death talk... what it looks like, sounds like, and other imagery. There's some religious talk too, if that's alarming to anyone.
It's hard watching someone you love die. It's harder watching them cheat death, then shit upon the life that was graciously handed back to them. It's hard sitting in the ICU with them, unconscious as you get news that someone else that you had been working with closely had suddenly died. Seeing death twice within a twenty-four hour time-span does something to you.
Death gives you perspective.
It's your job to take that perspective and change.
One life that was taken would have given anything to get it back. Her light shined so brightly, and one mishap took it all away. Her lust for life was insurmountable, as was her smile. Thoughts of her are frequent, and sometimes fleeting, but they are there. Death cheated when he took her away.
On the other hand, the cheater of Death, the one that was granted a second chance, lays dormant.
I know that the painted picture of what his hospitalization looked like was sterilized for a lessened shock value. Hibiclensed clean, he doesn't know that he looked like death. He didn't know that his eyes were sullen and grayed. That the paleness of his skin almost looked green against the stark white bedsheets draped around him. Or that his lips; thin and dry, cracked and bled. His lean body was nothing but skin draped over bones as he was a fall risk, only if he could muster the strength to stand. Drifting in and out of consciousness, we watched and hoped that wouldn't have been his final waking moment, as the scent of Death hung heavy in the air.
I know what death looks like. I've seen it before. I know what it smells like, and what it sounds like. I've listened to the death rattle, and I've seen the deadened eyes gaze beyond, as if they were waiting for the end. I saw death as he laid before me. Death stared through me. It made me do things that are unfamiliar and foreign to me.
I'm the girl who's afraid of Western religion (yes, afraid, but that's for another time) and I prayed. I prayed for God to save him. I prayed that he would come and rescue him, to give him another chance at life. I FUCKING PRAYED. There was only two other times in my life that I've done this, and it was only to save myself. I don't know if I did it the right way or not, not that there's some sort of biblical scripted way to pray, but I did what I could. I pleaded, knowing that if he were to survive, that he won't take this second chance for granted.
I was wrong.
It's coming upon the two year anniversary of the cheated Death, and the time Death cheated. Death took a life that wasn't supposed to be taken. This was a mistake. Watching someone that got their second chance now shitting upon life, yet again, is... just.. is. Those actions are none of my own, nor are they my concern, but with two events coinciding so inharmoniously, I find it incredibly hard to grasp the scope of this. I'll try to not lay blame, and to let things be as it is, as they will always be.
ASG- They are from the ILM. Dope, af and fitting.
Casualties of Cool - This was a recommendation that hit the mark.
You were taken far too soon.
xoxo
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| Pretty picture for a hard topic |
It's hard watching someone you love die. It's harder watching them cheat death, then shit upon the life that was graciously handed back to them. It's hard sitting in the ICU with them, unconscious as you get news that someone else that you had been working with closely had suddenly died. Seeing death twice within a twenty-four hour time-span does something to you.
Death gives you perspective.
It's your job to take that perspective and change.
One life that was taken would have given anything to get it back. Her light shined so brightly, and one mishap took it all away. Her lust for life was insurmountable, as was her smile. Thoughts of her are frequent, and sometimes fleeting, but they are there. Death cheated when he took her away.
On the other hand, the cheater of Death, the one that was granted a second chance, lays dormant.
I know that the painted picture of what his hospitalization looked like was sterilized for a lessened shock value. Hibiclensed clean, he doesn't know that he looked like death. He didn't know that his eyes were sullen and grayed. That the paleness of his skin almost looked green against the stark white bedsheets draped around him. Or that his lips; thin and dry, cracked and bled. His lean body was nothing but skin draped over bones as he was a fall risk, only if he could muster the strength to stand. Drifting in and out of consciousness, we watched and hoped that wouldn't have been his final waking moment, as the scent of Death hung heavy in the air.
I know what death looks like. I've seen it before. I know what it smells like, and what it sounds like. I've listened to the death rattle, and I've seen the deadened eyes gaze beyond, as if they were waiting for the end. I saw death as he laid before me. Death stared through me. It made me do things that are unfamiliar and foreign to me.
I'm the girl who's afraid of Western religion (yes, afraid, but that's for another time) and I prayed. I prayed for God to save him. I prayed that he would come and rescue him, to give him another chance at life. I FUCKING PRAYED. There was only two other times in my life that I've done this, and it was only to save myself. I don't know if I did it the right way or not, not that there's some sort of biblical scripted way to pray, but I did what I could. I pleaded, knowing that if he were to survive, that he won't take this second chance for granted.
I was wrong.
It's coming upon the two year anniversary of the cheated Death, and the time Death cheated. Death took a life that wasn't supposed to be taken. This was a mistake. Watching someone that got their second chance now shitting upon life, yet again, is... just.. is. Those actions are none of my own, nor are they my concern, but with two events coinciding so inharmoniously, I find it incredibly hard to grasp the scope of this. I'll try to not lay blame, and to let things be as it is, as they will always be.
Death be still or loud,
But comes galloping or shrouded.
Peace it may be, sometimes a protest,
It eases, yet it pains.
Death is quick, but lingers,
Bitter yet sweet.
A final taste of life,
The unconscious scope it brings.
But Death be still not proud,
For there is neither gain nor loss.
Death is as it should be,
yet always as it is.
Death be still or loud,
But comes always as it should.
~KD
You were taken far too soon.
xoxo
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