This poem is based on a true story that happened during an afternoon nap. TBC, I was not wishing to take my own life at the time. I just wanted a few moments without feeling the weight of my grief, to feel nothing.
my given name,
not the nickname
I acquired from my little brother,
the one she whispered
from her lips, calling me softly
to her bedside
before consciousness faded,
her last I love you,
a longed for wish.
Three times my name rang out.
No, this was urgent,
danger she saw coming
as I lay sleeping,
Xanax and bourbon
swallowed against the grief,
against the light
grown too bright, too real.
Three times she called me.
Her voice I heard
with clarity,
each time a screech
from just beyond my reach.
As was before,
when she yet lived,
I answered her call
and awoke.
Trust transcends death.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Written on 2026-03-31 at 18:56
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The Sentinel
Three times she screamed for me to wake,my given name,
not the nickname
I acquired from my little brother,
the one she whispered
from her lips, calling me softly
to her bedside
before consciousness faded,
her last I love you,
a longed for wish.
Three times my name rang out.
No, this was urgent,
danger she saw coming
as I lay sleeping,
Xanax and bourbon
swallowed against the grief,
against the light
grown too bright, too real.
Three times she called me.
Her voice I heard
with clarity,
each time a screech
from just beyond my reach.
As was before,
when she yet lived,
I answered her call
and awoke.
Trust transcends death.
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Written on 2026-03-31 at 18:56
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text| Texts |
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