When it is my turn

This is what I feel now, but then, I don’t know what my state of mind will be when I really do face the prospect. It’s easy to spout brave words from the safety of your life stretching in front of you.

When it is my time

To take leave

Of this abode of mine

Life, do not hold me back

Turn off the lights gently

Let me steal away

Imperceptibly

Do not hold me back

Either with tears

Life saving medicines

Life maintaining machines

Or under sense terminating

 Anesthesia

Not for me the tracheal tube

That robs me of my human speech

Not for me the forced

Oxygenation of lungs

That no longer want to breathe

No, not for me the marvels

Of state-of-the-art medical science

That hooks me by tubes

That feed me juice

To keep me alive

Beyond my allotted time

And more tubes

Oozing  with

My body fluids

Blood red, jaundiced yellow

For everyone to see

And strap me to monitors

That display every twitch of

My fragilities

Not for me the confinements

That break my spirit

And turn me into

A shadow of myself

I no longer recognize

Not for me the chemicals

That leave me weak

As I’ve never known me

To be

Not for me the blood thinners

The chest de-congesters

Or the electromechanical devices

To kick-start my faculties

That want to cease

Not for me the hospital bed

Where I’m bereft

Of every shred of human dignity

Nor for me the administrations

Of doctors, although skilful

Who hack my carcass apart

To put new life back

Into a body that wants to depart

When it is my turn

Give me the strength

To say  –

Life – Set me free for I did not ask to be 

Life – Let go of me for I no longer want to be

Life – I am free for I do not ask to be

-by Rita Putatunda