My Sick Sunflower

My Sick Sunflower.

My love,
your hourglass is almost empty.
The time we have left is minimal.
Your yellow eyes aren’t like the sunflowers I imagined,
the sick yellow emerging from deaths doorstep.
The hospital I hate is always seen from afar,
Oh, please don’t cry,
you’re fine!
Your hands weak emanating that sick yellow,
The high sierras you admire from your window,
My love,
time seems to fly when it has an expiration date.
I wish to see the vibrant colors of you,
Your cold hands feel unrecognizable,
I wish the sun could kiss your hands once more.
Every freckle,
Every detail,
I loved the warmth of your body,
Like sunflowers swaying the the breeze on a cool summer day,
But now,
That warm love is now gone,
The cold has become absolute.
Faint signs of strength as you squeeze my hand,
My salty tears stain the light blue sheets,
My Sick Sunflower.
Take care of our precious flowerbed,
Take care of me when you die,
shriveled up in the winter,
I wish to see spring with you again.