We were just
watching a show.

I wanted to keep
your fragile mind
distracted
from the one thing
you didn’t want to know.

A scary part
came on the screen;

we both looked at each other
wide-eyed,
eyebrows raised,
hands waiting
to cover our eyes.

This was
right before
your phone started to gleam

Ringing.

It sounded different this time.
It was at a pitch
too high;
the sound
accompanied by death
and my mother’s crying.

The crack in your voice
is something
I wish
I never had to hear
as you were gasping for air
after every tear

Your father is dying.

You looked at me
eyes nearly closed,
eyebrows lowered,
hands wiping your face

to the man
that was there for you
your entire life
to the man that held your hand
when you were afraid
when you were sick

when you needed him.

You couldn’t even be there
to return the favor;
to hold his own hand
while he lay there
eyes starting to waver.

You had to say good-bye
through a screen.

Are you sure
this isn’t
another part
of the show?