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Inspiration~Anonymous~ As you lie awake in a hospital bed, we talk on the phone and whisper sweet nothings to each other. I can't wait for you to get better again so you can be back in my arms. I sit by your side and we hold hands, watch t.v., joke with the nurses, hook you up to a portable oxygen tank to walk the bland halls. During the day, at least we are together~but at night, I keep waiting for you to pull in my driveway in your little red car or knock on my door with pizza, beer and a movie. Instead, we flirt on the phone until you start laughing and say, "Stop it, baby~you're taking my breath away! I'll have to call for another breathing treatment"... Neither one of us wants to be the first to hang up, but you can only say, "I miss you" so many times before there's nothing left. So, we live for the next day when my kids can draw more silly pictures for your bulletin board and we can wait together for the doctors to say you can go home soon... Maybe tommorow, I can tuck you into your own bed again like the kids and I did the night before you were admitted to the hospital. Maybe tommorow, I can hear you breathe again and know that you will be okay. Maybe then, you will be showing up on my doorstep once again, your little red car cruising down my street as you sing with your stereo... and I will praise God for giving you back your breath and giving you back to me. I should be the only one taking your breath away from now on, baby. Come home, darling. We miss you like crazy. Lori Beal Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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