Ignorance is Bliss in a Prim Proper Hat with Crooked Pearls for Teeth

I had a dream that I was ‘cured’
but everything felt the same.
   

“Oh, but darling, you are well, you are cured. By miracle of miracles, you are!”

 Her hair was the color of chestnuts and perfectly coiffed. She wore a prim hat upon her head and rouge was smudged just so, along her high set cheekbones. She smiled, showing crooked teeth - seemingly the only imperfection that would grace her very being. Her delicate hands nudged me forth as she exclaimed again in repetition.

A cadence.
 A death march cadence.

I was being urged to go out and do
what I was
  “meant to do,” as she declared,

but there was a hollow, dusty space
where the rust-laden box
labeled “meant”
was to reside within my head.

I pleaded with her,
struggling
to turn around so she could see
the wells of my eyes,
  

“No, you don’t understand, I am not cured! There IS no cure! I am unwell! Please, I beg of you, this hurts!”

 My right leg dangled uselessly as I clamped the screaming bones of my hands on her shoulders, searching desperately for any comprehension in her ice blue eyes.

The pearls of her teeth, however crooked, were still quite flawless as she smiled,
  

“Now, now! I’ve already been informed. The doctors say you are quite the portrait of health and wit and to doubt their prowess would be the silliest thing I’ve yet to hear,”

 and again she prodded me forward.

 The room was stocked with screens, and though my head was pounding so viciously that it caused my vision to jump with every pulse, I mustered the strength to see what was displayed.

 Charts and graphs and simulations were flickering, and what felt like hours passed before I noticed them. The outlined shadows of a hundred people, all huddled in the space before me. They’re terrified eyes like beacons in the dim light.
  

“Well?” I heard her query, faintly tinged with exasperation.

 And slowly, just as a current from deep within the ocean brings a wave gliding for the shore, I recognized the layout of a building - vaguely familiar - the very building I sensed must be my location. Tiny red dots blinked feverishly, smattered across the perimeter lines and growing ever bigger.

And then, with a serenity I
had never felt before
I accepted that my world
was set to explode.

I closed my eyes
with the hope that it would be
a subtle warmth
and no more pain.

Only darkness for the rest of time.

Reviews

[Olivia]

I genuinely loved this.
It was nice to read, because everything you write is just right.

[A Glow in the Pit of My Soul]

thank you so much, doll

[RomaJ]

You are an amazing story teller, Glow. Your story captivated me, "I was urged to go out and do what I was meant to do" I can relate to your poem, as I have had a loved one in hospice care. I can only imagine, what went through their mind.
" I closed my eyes
with the hope that it would be
a subtle warmth
and no more pain.

Only darkness for the rest of time."

Beautiful, masterful piece.

[A Glow in the Pit of My Soul]

thank you, that's so lovely of you to say.