Poetry from a Teen

Exactly what the title says

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2. Flatline

Flatline

The green line goes up and down across the screen of the monitor
Counting the moments we have left together. 
I take your limp hand, grasp it tight
God knows I'll never let go tonight.

Everything about us seemed wrong
We bickered and fought, sometimes all day long.
But despite it all, we were still alright
You'd always be there to tell me good night.

Remember our first date?
When your car broke down and we were "fashionably late?"
And our first kiss?
In that moment, I had nothing left to wish.

We have so many memories together, you and I
A lot are happy, some make me want to cry.
But, in the end, that doesn't really make a difference
Because every single one is precious

I love your eyes, sometimes gray, sometimes blue
Every day they're a different hue.
I love your hair, your smile
That random dimple that shows up every once and awhile. 

I love the way you're shy
And that you're not afraid to let me see you cry
I love how you always know exactly what to do
But most of all, I love the way you love me too

But now you're dying, actually at death's door.
And there will be nothing more
No more memories, no more time
Your life is ending, and that's a crime!

You shouldn't be this way, unconscious on a bed
A guy like you shouldn't be brain dead!
It was an accident; that car colliding with our's
But it did happen, I can prove it with my scars.

Your eyes haven't opened, you refuse to awaken
I watch you closely, just to make sure they aren't mistaken
The green line is slowing down, it's nearly straight.
And all I can do is wait. 

Tears spring up and I angrily swipe them away.
I refuse to be miserable, not on our last day.
I hold your hand tighter and bring it to my cheek.
Your fingers, once so strong, are now so weak.

And finally, the line levels out
You've been taken from me, without a doubt.
I gasp and feel my heart break in two
I just sit there and sob: there is nothing else to do. 

I cry and cry
And wonder why,
You're dead, you're gone, we're out of time.
As you flatline. 











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