Babooshya

Babooshya

Dedicated to:
To the lady who gave life, to a woman who gave birth; TO ME.


She laid there still and lifeless, as if she was asleep with her eyes open, on that Advance Series bed. A bed that has more buttons and controls on it that a universal TV remote. She was under white cotton sheets, and a white pillow. I sat there by her side on a chair that was also covered in a white gown matching hers.

She had multi-toned everything; starting from her bicolored lips with dull reds and vibrant purples. Her bottom lip perched a bit further out than her upper lip. The bottom one was quite fuller than the top lip. They showed remains of past lovers decades ago, they reminisced of a loving deceased significant other. They wer battered, cracked, broken, and dry.

Her eyes were small and beady. Shining of resentment, regret, and suffering. As inviting and honest as they were, they seemed to be gaurding her, and sheltering her from others to view her passionate, worn out soul.

Her neck as well as over all skin was soft, and streched out; like taffy. It had khaki colored freckles, mixed into the overpowering cadaverous complexion, with shades and hints of red. Her skin had loose hairs running around, that haven't been tamed in ages. Nothing too out of the ordinary for a woman of sugh age, that she was.

She had needles and tubes and clips attached to every and any possible part of her body, and the only empty spaces on her body; that had no IV's full of water, oxygen, or morphine. Either left her cruised in black and blues, as well as greens and yellows on her skin, were only left alone, becayse of the amounts of blood drawn from these medically man-made holes, using nothing but never0ending needles.

She hadn't eaten or drank a single thing in three days, and yet she didn't complain a word. She looked weak and helpless, but even under those conditions was to prideful to ask and of the medical sisters for assitance of any kind.