Fuck.

That word, words, all words, no words can even come close to the description of what is inside of me and around me. Words are in a different realm-an earthly one. I feel a spiritual pain that runs deeper than the means by which this world has created to explain or communicate. Perhaps that is why I feel so lost and alone, even while I am surrounded.

But I will try.

I hear: gurgled raspy gasping breaths
I feel: the blanket that lays on atop my mother's withered legs
I smell: stale air sprayed over with happy scents–flowers, lavender, clary sage
I taste: salt tears
I see: my mother, eyes half open, unresponsive, seemingly gasping for every breath and every so often vomit-type substance falling from her mouth.
I see: my mother dying.
When I am asleep, when I am awake.

Nothing could prepare me for such an experience.

Life ain't fuckin' easy.