| Not Like a Movie It�s just a shallow breath, In a cold white room, And then he�s gone. It�s not like the movies, beautiful and soft. It�s not like peaceful poetry, reassuring and quiet. It�s rumbling fears and hateful. I�m angry and bitter, unreasonable. There�s something white-hot in my chest, Stabbing to get out, As I hold his hand waiting for a nurse. Waiting for some kind of ending, closure. So I can go home and get on with my life. Oh damn him, him and love. Love and promises and rainbows and faith, I thought it would be so different, By Rachel Werner Copyright 2002 |