I like when you play Pink Floyd
on the TV in your old room
when I lived with you
it was a library
now it takes the appearance
of a machine
a maze of plastic green tubes
colors of which are almost complimentary
to your purple spotted skin
room loud with the hum of water
and folding of leather
never enough air
to fill you up completely
I would never say it to your face
but there is nothing before you
the first light of life
my first father
and last night I saw you crying
clutching mom in the kitchen
hyperventilating without the oxygen to sob
begging from your chair on the floor
for a little more time
you will see no marriage
no grandchildren
no future
how friendly Death has become
a neighbor knocking at the door
every few months for a visit
asking if you\'re ready
dragging at your feet
as you cling
to my little red rocking chair
only you keep Jesus alive
a cross burned into my chest
Heaven\'s gates stay open for you
and I never find myself fully believing
but I\'d kneel before anything
to pray, to beg, to forgive
I pissed on your carpet
when I was four
I’m sorry
stay