Survive*

Survive*

Her vomit painted the floor.

Her unending cries

deafened us all.

His body burned for minutes, hours, days.

He was sluggish,

unresponsive.

She was rushed to the hospital,

104 degrees fahrenheit

hours and hours with an IV.

Several months pregnant,

driving, late,

in a state whose permit tests ask more about BAC than about driving,

she got in an accident.

Tubes

and tubes

and tubes

were here, there, everywhere

in and out of his body,

now just a fraction of its predecessor.

Tossing and turning,

cold and hot

from day to night,

getting up,

losing consciousness.

Itchy throat,

swollen,

hives,

throat, closing

and closing,

voice silencing,

breathing gets

harder

and harder,

and harder.

Sometimes I stay up,

far later than everyone else.

I listen

to the soft snores

that fill the lonely night’s silences

and I’m so scared

for the day

they’ll stop,

and I’m so thankful

so very, very thankful

because,

we survived.

I’m so thankful

so very, very thankful

because,

I get to hug them when they cry.

I get to hold their hands.

I get to hear their complaints.

I get to

listen

to their soft snores

that fill the lonely night’s silences.

By Sally Tran

*This was not created by a Black or Latina woman, but pertains to The Bridge's mission.

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