Median

 

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Image Source: Joie De Cleve

Sharp knife drawn like a thin line across my heart.
Decisions you have to make.
Decisions I have to make.
You can only have one.

Breath hitches in my chest,
Air dry,
Heat rising in ribbons from the dying sand.

“Save him,” you murmur. “Save him.”
What little strength you have.

But I saw it happen, watched the car swerve into my
Side of the road, the wrong side.

“I will,” I promise as I lift you in my arms.
Two mile walk to the gas station up the way, and then,
We’ll see.