Going Through Some Things...

Not really sure what this is... But it needed to get out.


I hate coming to see you, and not because I don’t love you,
but because I don’t like seeing you in your condition.
Seeing you struggle to live, is like watching the best of me die slowly.

Your hands that held me up now hold onto me as I support you.
Seeing you spoon fed you the same way you did me years ago,
the irony of the situation not lost.

So I go, I travel to see you knowing that each and every time could be the last.
I leave feeling better and yet somehow worse, for time spent with you is both a blessing
and bittersweet.