Christina

I watch the light disappear from her eyes
As if someone had flicked off an invisible switch.
The color retreats slowly from her skin
Until she matches the hospital sheets.
Her hand slips, falling from my shaking ones.
A voice in the back of my mind screams at me,
“It’s all your fault!”

I know it’s true
If I hadn’t gotten sick
If my body had been strong enough
I could have saved her.

Our bodies were the perfect match
My blood her medicine
My body her savior
But my medicine caused her death.

She got sick, the leukemia poisoned her whole body
I was the only one who could save her
But then I got sick too and became totally useless.

At least my problem was treatable
I was her only treatment,
and
I
let
her
die.