Bianca Madaffari Poetry

He stares intently,
eyes locked.
He reads my lips
but cannot hear my voice.
He is lost.

His body aches confusion
as I ask him once more,
“Do you know why you’re here?”
His expression darkens.
His hands tremble beneath the bandages.
His cracked lips mouth,
“Yes.”

Eye contact is key with patients like him.
Those who are alive but wish they weren’t.
Those who tried but failed,
at life, and at death.

I stare into his eyes, 
a portal into the minds abyss.
His wounded wrists pulsate, 
and I can feel each beat.

And those eyes,
Those eyes, 
they paralyze me.
I see no hope, no love, only want. 

He returns the stare 
and I can see it. 
The longing, the lust for one thing
and one thing only, 
and that one thing is
Death. 

And through his eyes I can see 
that when he leaves this place,
he will, without hesitation
try to die again.
But this time, it will be different. 
Yes, this time, he will
succeed.