Something you can touch…

something you can

I wanted to write something about end of life having spent the last few weeks pathetically messaging a school friend who has sadly now gone -her cancer ovarian, mine fortunately breast.  It seems to me that through long illness, no matter how dark the dark days I think we cherish them in the end…  There is never a good time to die!

Bald head, scrumpled bed,

Unsaid, plain dread..

Bruised veins

And bottle drains,

Email chains in fast lanes…

On the edge but in the game,

Joints inflame,

Christian name,

Empty bra’s a v-neck shame,

Throwing up,

Who to blame?

Toilet talk,

To make you baulk,

Face like chalk,

A sleeping walk…

Summing up the chaos,

Clasping

Something you can touch…

When it ‘s over, there are only memories and no matter, how bad it was, I still cling to the pieces…

Anne was kind enough to message me her goodbye, “You sound such a busy and fun person Ailsa. I wish we could have known each other longer and lived not so far apart and perhaps been able to share in each others friendship & fun a little more xx” -I wish we could have had longer too…

With thanks to Mel Shand #‎gamekeeperswife for the permission to use her lovely photo

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