Tuesday, February 17, 2015
98 pounds
He didn't even open his eyes as my tear fell silently on his sleeve, making the royal blue an even darker hue. I lifted the shell of his frame to put my arm underneath him as Carly and I climbed into his bed. There are no responses anymore. Our moments together are one-sided, for just me. He doesn't know I'm there, but I do. I can still love on him, hold his hand, kiss his forehead. Like his mind, his body is now simply wasting away. 98 pounds. I don't know what to think, what to feel, except sadness. Such deep sadness.
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Psalms 56:8
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.
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